
# LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 

t ' ' 



| DKITED STATES OE AMERICA. ^ 















* 










































































































































































































% 












































































































































































* 









% * 








t 

























I 




/ 








































V. 


I 




> 


























. , 

. 




























































































» 





















































*> 











































\ 





















■< 








t* 































I 


































Hfttlc 3og.— Jfrontfspiere 


“I wonder if the Zionland will be any better than this?” 

murmured Joy, with a dreamy smile. p. 22. 








HOW THE KINGDOM CAME 


( 

TO 


LITTLE JOY. 



A dwelling-place.” 


J 




PHILADELPHIA: 

^AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, 
No. 1122 Chestnut Street. . 


New York: Nos. 8 and 10 Bible House, Astor Place. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by the 
AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



Westcott & Thomson, 

Ste r eotypers, Fhilada. 


Henry B. Ashmead, 
Printer, Philada. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

Joy’s Question 7 . 

CHAPTER II. 

The Slough in the Meadow 20 

CHAPTER III. 

The House with the Wicket-Gate 38 

CHAPTER IV. 

“Thy Kingdom Come” 53 

CHAPTER V. 

A Fishing Expedition 68 

CHAPTER VI. 

Hill Difficulty 83 

1 * 5 


6 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER VII. 

PAGl 

The House Beautiful 101 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Darby’s Sermon, and how the Angel came 115 

CHAPTER IX. 

Castle Doubting and Giant Despair 132 

CHAPTER X. 

A Visit to the City of the Dead 147 

CHAPTER XI. 

The Delectable Mountains 1G5 


Little Joy. 


CHAPTER I. 

JOY'S QUESTION. 

“ Know ye that better land ?” 

T the foot of a small back-yard ran a 
broad deep river in which lay em- 
bedded a long narrow island. Yellow 
fields of waving broomcorn covered 
all the centre of the island, but just 
at the water’s edge was a wild bit of ground 
grown full of reeds and cat-tails and alder 
bushes and wild thorns ; stunted willows too, 
whose long, pliant branches bent over into the 
cool, dark water under the shadow of the 
bank, as if fishing for the little minnows as 
they shot out into the warm sunshine. Be- 
yond the river was a long stretch of meadows 

7 



8 


LITTLE JOY. 


and broomcorn flats, rising gradually into low 
distant bills, among whose purple shadows the 
sunbeams played hide and seek, from early 
sunrise to sunset, through the long golden 
autumn days. 

On the low back doorstep leading down 
into the yard sat a little girl intent upon the 
frontispiece of a book which lay open on her 
knee, the sun pouring down a whole shower 
of bright beams upon her light yellow hair, 
on a little crutch lying at rest by her side, 
and all over the old brown house at her back. 

The picture she studied was that of a man 
clothed in rags, a book in his hand and a 
great bundle on his back. His face wore an 
expression of distress and terror ; his back was 
turned toward the house, in whose doorway 
were collected his wife and children ; his eyes 
were raised and fixed with eager longing upon 
the shadowy outlines of a distant cloudy city. 
Beneath, in large letters, were printed the 
words : 

FLEE FROM THE WRATH TO COME. 

The little face bent over this scene was very 
sober and troubled, and one or two soft sighs 
of mingled doubt and regret bore witness to 


joy's question. 


9 


the struggle going on in the childish breast. 
Once she murmured in a low tone : 

“ I s’pose it would be better to start right 
off. The book man said it was not safe to be 
waiting for other folks. But oh dear ! if 
Darry would only not take so long to make 
up his mind ! I’m most afraid to go alone.” 

She raised a pair of soft, thoughtful brown 
eyes, and sent an exploring glance across the 
sunny landscape, then, with her head thrown 
back and her chin high in the air, stared right 
up into the deep blue sky above, where a flock 
of fleecy cloud-sheep were skimming along, 
chased by a warm, gentle breeze. 

“ There must be a road up there somewhere, 
but I do not know how to find it. The book 
man said we must ask, but nobody seems to 
know.” 

The tiny cloud floated noiselessly by, and 
the deep blue sky smiled silently down at the 
little earnest face : they were so far away, so 
very high above the upturned eyes ; and yet, 
as she looked steadfastly into those pure, soft 
depths, a sweet, tender expression spread it- 
self over the child’s pale, delicate features. It 
was as if a lovely vision of that far-away land 
had disclosed itself to her searching gaze. 


10 


LITTLE JOY. 


She began to sing softly in a fresh, childish 
way : 

“ Beautiful Zion built above, 

Beautiful city that I love, 

Beautiful gates of pearly white, 

Beautiful temple, God its light; 

He who was slain on Calvary 
Opens those pearly gates to me.” 

She was still again for a little while. 

“Yes,” she murmured, at last, in a low 
tone, as if speaking in a dream, “ I can see 
the shadows of the trees and the white angels 
walking about the street ; it almost seems as 
if I can catch the children's voices singing 
1 G-lory, glory, glory,’ and hear them calling 
me to make haste lest the gates should be 
shut before I start.” 

Was it only a child’s vivid imagination 
peopling the clouds with fanciful images, or 
was it the spirit-eyes of the soul piercing 
through the veil of sense into the unseen 
world beyond ? 

“What are you doing, Joy? Do you see 
anything in the sky ?” 

The child quickly dropped her chin to its 
usual position with a little start, and brought 
her eyes to bear on the pleasant, rosy-cheeked 


JOYS QUESTION. 


11 


face of a young woman wlio stood in the door- 
way. 

“ I'm thinking, Lindy,” she said, in a slow, 
dreamy way. “Do you want me?” 

“ There’s no one to take Darry his dinner 
unless you will, Joy,” said the woman, with a 
doubtful glance from the little crutch to the 
child’s pale face. “He went off in such a 
hurry this morning that he forgot it. The 
pail is not very heavy.” 

“ I suppose I can go,” said Joy, in a sober, 
thoughtful tone; “only,” she added, with a 
wise little shake of her head, “ I do not know 
where the new railway is.” 

“ Oh, that’s no matter,” replied her sister- 
in-law, with a look of relief. “Just go 
straight along the plank-road till you come to 
the mill where the road turns off. Any one 
there can tell you.” 

“ Well,” said Joy, taking up the crutch 
with a little sigh, “ I’ll go and try.” 

The young woman went back into the house. 
Joy’s eyes wandered off again to what lay out- 
side the door — only for a moment, however — 
then she slowly rose and prepared to follow. 
As she did so the use of the little crutch be- 
came apparent : one limb was so much shorter 


12 


LITTLE JOY. 


than the other that in walking the slight 
figure swayed unsteadily and required some 
such support. 

The child stepped into an entry, and taking 
down an old straw hat from a nail, pushed 
open a door into what seemed the common 
living-room. 

A table, chairs, and a small cooking-stove 
filled the front end, while on a bed in the 
background a stout, healthy-looking baby lay 
lustily kicking ana crowing. The furniture, 
though plain and rather scanty, was good of 
its kind; the small glass windows shone, and 
the floor and woodwork were very clean and 
well painted ; everything about the room had 
a tidy, thrifty aspect. 

Joy limped up to the table and stood silently 
by while Lindy prepared huge slices of bread 
and meat, and then packed them nicely in a 
bright tin pail with two or three apple turn- 
overs and some generous pieces of fresh yellow 
cheese. 

“ There ! I’ve put in enough dinner for you 
both. Now, if you take a fancy to stay about 
picking up chestnuts or gathering wild flowers 
until Darry comes home, there’s nothing to 
hinder. It will do you good to play out in 


joy’s question. 13 

the woods a bit. So much thinking is not 
good for you.” 

The little girls eyes brightened ; she only 
nodded gravely, without a word. But as she 
limped off slowly toward the door a sudden 
thought struck her, and she stopped short on 
the threshold to look back and ask abruptly, 

“Lindy, how far off is ‘Beautiful Zion’ 
from here ?” 

The young woman’s pleasant look vanished. 
“ Mercy on us, child ! how you do harp on that 
nonsense ! No one knows till they get there, 
I suppose.” 

“ But what should you think was the way?” 
persisted the little lame girl. 

“ I do not think anything about it one way 
or another,” answered she, dryly. 

“ I know one thing I do wish,” she mut- 
tered to herself as Joy closed the door, — “ that 
those book-agents would mind their own busi- 
ness at home, and not go tramping around the 
country putting such notions into children’s 
heads.” 

Joy went slowly down the front steps into 
the street. The house stood on a slight rise 
of ground in the very outskirts of the town ; 
just beyond, a canal bridge led out into the 
2 


14 


LITTLE JOY. 


open country. There were plenty more just 
such dingy tenement-houses on the city side, 
and a whole row opposite, but between Joy's 
home and the canal was only a blacksmith’s 
forge, where the farmers stopped very often to 
have their horses shod. 

There were no wagons in front at this mo- 
ment. Joy paused at the open door and look- 
ed in. The bare-armed, sooty-faced smith was 
hard at work, and a shower of bright sparks 
was flying upward under the quick, steady 
blows of his heavy hammer upon the glowing 
iron. 

As the little girl’s shadow darkened the 
doorway he glanced up and nodded good- 
naturedly. 

“ How do you do, Joy ? Are you come to 
pay me a visit ?” 

“Not now, Mr. Blacksmith; I’m carrying 
Darry his dinner. Please, will you tell me 
the way to Zion ?” 

The man dropped his hammer and eyed the 
little questioner with mingled surprise and 
embarrassment. 

Something in the grave face so earnest and 
eager checked the light answer on his tongue 
and sobered his own sooty face. 


JOYS QUESTION. 


15 


“ I don’t just know it rightly myself, child, 
more’s the shame. Why not ask the Sunday- 
school folk ? They’ll tell you.” 

“ Where do the Sunday-school folk live?” 
asked Joy, gravely. 

“All over, I’m thinking,” answered the 
blacksmith, with a short, uneasy laugh, and 
then the sparks flew faster than ever under 
the energetic movements of his powerful 
arm. 

“ They did not live at the mines, unless the 
book man was one,” murmured Joy as she 
crossed the bridge and went down the road 
leading to the mill. 

The trees were gay in their bright fall 
dress. A golden mist shone over the broad 
landscape, where all sorts of warm autumnal 
tints were blended together in one harmonious 
whole. Overhead great flocks of black crows 
whirled past, caw, cawing that summer was 
gone, and once a little bird flew up into the 
very tip top of a roadside tree and sang so 
long and sweetly that Joy stood still right in 
the middle of the road to listen, although she 
could not understand a single note. 

The mill was a small settlement, with its 
owner’s large white house, barns, other out- 


16 


LITTLE JOY. 


houses, and a half a dozen labourers' cottages, 
running up the long hill at whose foot it was 
situated. Near the deep, clear pool of water, 
whose banks were high on two sides, throwing 
broad shadows clear across, stood a picturesque 
old sawmill, and there was a constant cool 
splashing of water as the wheel turned. On 
the opposite side of the road were bars lead- 
ing into a broad, green meadow, and in the 
meadow were a great many red and black and 
white cows grazing. 

At the door o'f the mill stood the miller in 
his white hat and flour-sprinkled garments. 
He was staring listlessly down the road, as if 
on the watch for customers. 

"I wonder if he is one of the Sunday- 
school folk ?" said little Joy to herself. 

The miller bestowed an indifferent glance 
on the faded calico frock and old straw hat 
as their owner drew nearer and nearer and 
finally stopped. 

“ Please, sir, where’s the new railroad ?” 
asked the child, with as much of a curtsey as 
the crutch would allow. 

“Take the bars down and step into that 
meadow yonder, and be careful to steer clear 
of the marsh. If you keep on close to the 


joy’s question. 17 

hill, you’ll hear the men at work before you 
get there.” 

Joy thought of her other question, but his 
face was not encouraging, so she gave a little 
sigh, and putting her pail on the grass, with 
some difficulty she managed to let down the 
bars and pass through to the other side. 
They were heavy and not easy to replace, 
but the miller did not offer to help, only 
watched her slow, awkward efforts with a 
slight disagreeable smile. 

“Dear me!” said the little girl to herself, 
with another sigh, as she again took up the 
pail ; “ I hope there are not many such per- 
sons on the road to Zion, ’cause, if there are, 
it would be better to wait for Darry to help 
me along. I wonder why everybody cannot 
be pleasant? It’s so much nicer.” 

A well-worn footpath ran across the grass 
under the shadow of the bank, so Joy knew 
that must be the road, and went on more 
slowly than before, singing softly to rest 
herself : 


“ Come to that happy land, 
Come, come away : 

Why will ye doubting stand, 
Why long delay ? 

2 * B 


18 


LITTLE JOY. 


Oh, we shall happy be, 

When, from sin and sorrow free, 

Lord, we shall dwell with thee, 

Blest, blest for aye. M 

“ I wish I could remember the rest,” said 
Joy, coming to a sudden stop. “ It was such 
a beautiful song.” 

The crickets jumped about under foot, the 
birds kept up an incessant chirping overhead, 
a squirrel sat on a stone by the side of the 
path nibbling at a nut, with his tail high up in 
.the air. He looked so earnestly at Joy that 
she gave him a nod of encouragement, but as 
soon as she came near the squirrel ran 
away. Joy went quietly on, breathing in long 
draughts of the fresh, sweet country air, and 
alternately watching the sunbeams chase the 
shadows along the path before her and the 
white cloudlets in the fair blue sky above. 
Soon the hum of men's voices and the heavy 
fall of earth warned her she was drawing 
near the working-ground. A moment later, 
she stood at the entrance of a long narrow 
-passage, which was to open a way through 
half a mile of sandhill to the valley on the 
opposite side. 

Joy came to a stand, and surveyed the 


joy’s question. 19 

busy scene with mingled astonishment and 
interest. 

One detachment of men, halfway up the 
perpendicular bank, hard at work, looked in 
the distance, with their red shirts and dimin- 
utive forms, more like a band of monkeys 
than full-grown men. 

Darry belonged to the lower band of work- 
men. So soon as he caught sight of his little 
sister standing in the opening, he threw down 
his spade and came toward her, looking very 
red and warm. His face was a good steady 
one, sunburnt and freckled, but full of intel- 
ligence and pleasantness. 

“ Here’s your dinner, Darry,” said Joy, hold- 
ing out the tin pail as the explanation of her 
presence. “And Lindy said I was to wait 
and take mine too.” > 

The young man nodded good-humouredly : 
“All right, little woman. We’ll stop work 
now in about twenty minutes, and then I’ll 
come. If you climb up the bank under those 
pine trees yonder, you’ll be out of the way of 
the carts, and can watch us work better.” 

Darry ran back to his place, and his sister, 
hanging the pail on her arm, slowly worked 
her way up the shady slope. 


CHAPTER II. 

THE SLOUGH IN THE MEADOW . 

“ A clue is in my hand 
Thro’ earth’s labyrinth to guide me 
To that far-off heavenly land.” 

HE bank up which Joy had climbed 
was crowned with a wood where trees 
of great size and beauty had been 
growing for many years. Down its 
sloping sides groups of outposts were 
scattered here and there, the boughs arching 
and mingling high overhead, and stretching 
upward toward the thicker portion, like the 
long side aisles of some grand cathedral. 
Huge moss-grown boulders were scattered 
around, too, serving the purpose of seats, and 
pine knots lay thick over the ground, while 
patches of green and gray and crisp red- 
capped moss formed a soft, beautiful carpet 
under the leafy canopy. Here was an old 
stump of a tree, all festooned with bramble 
20 



THE SLOUGH IN THE MEADOW. 21 

and ivy, and there a tiny hollow lined with 
velvety green, strewed with delicate ferns and 
bright-colored autumn leaves. 

Joy went slowly on and up until she found 
a seat that just suited her, — an old tree bole 
which had fallen sideways, with cushions of 
green moss at its foot and back and a light 
hemlock screen overhead. It was a pretty 
place to wait in, at once shady and sunny, 
for the sun was there before her, scattering 
his rays all around, dancing over the rustic 
arm-chair, and bringing to light all the acorns 
and sticks and snail-shells hidden among the 
moss. It commanded, besides, a fine view of 
the whole surrounding country, and she could 
look right down the passage Darry was help- 
ing to dig. 

Weary with her long walk, the little girl set 
down the pail on top of a smooth, flat rock she 
thought would just answer for a table when 
wanted, and throwing down her crutch, half re- 
clined against the sloping bank, with her face 
upturned to the sky and her eyes opening and 
closing with the fitful play of the light and 
shade upon the half-closed lids. None of the 
discordant din and turmoil of the distant city, 
whose tall spires and smoking factory chim- 


22 


LITTLE JOY. 


neys could be plainly seen at that elevation ; 
only a soft, sweet, almost solemn stir of wood 
sounds and the ceaseless hum of insect-life. 
Now and then a faint, indistinct murmur of 
men’s voices came up from below, but other- 
wise nothing was to be heard except the drop, 
drop of nuts, the rustling of the branches as 
the squirrels ran to and fro collecting their 
winter store, or the occasional low, sweet note 
of a bird in the trees overhead. 

Joy leaned back and listened with a feeling 
of dreamy content and languor to the inces- 
sant, ocean-like song of the pines, every 
gentle breath of wind bringing down a deli- 
cious aromatic perfume as it played caressingly 
with the child’s light yellow locks and cooled 
her heated temples. 

11 1 wonder if the Zion-land will be any 
better than this?” murmured Joy, with a 
dreamy smile. “ Only, the book man said I 
wouldn’t be lame any more, nor tired, nor hun- 
gry, nor sick ; and there would be no winter.” 

Until within the past few months all Joy 
could remember of her short life had been 
passed in a wild, godless mining region of the 
Far West. No portion of heathendom on the 
other side of the ocean could have been more 


THE SLOUGH IN THE MEADOW. 23 

destitute of Christian creed and ordinances. 
Her brother had taught her to read and 
cipher, but her first religious notions, vague 
and imperfect as they still were, dated bach to 
the short memorable visit of an itinerant mis- 
sionary and his evening conversations with 
Darry during the week he had been an in- 
mate of their rude log cottage. 

He had found Joy an eager, willing pupil, 
especially when he taught her two or three 
simple Sunday-school hymns, and talked to 
her of the Lord Jesus and the beautiful home 
he was preparing for all his followers in the 
celestial country above. As in the case of a 
certain woman of Thyatira, “ the Lord open- 
ed her heart that she attended unto the things 
spoken.” 

But the missionary’s stay had been short. 
Darry had with difficulty protected him, dur- 
ing those few days, from the lawless violence 
of the other miners, and this bold defence of 
his guest against their ill-treatment and angry 
threats had made it necessary for the family 
to seek another home. The little girl’s ideas 
were a curious mixture of truth and fiction. 
11 Beautiful Zion ” was only another, safer, and 
far happier earthly home, and the spiritual pil- 


24 


LITTLE JOY. 


gr image a foot-journey which even a child 
was urged and commanded to make. 

This idea had been much strengthened by 
the delighted perusal of Pilgrim’s Progress, 
the missionary’s parting gift to Darry. Day 
after day the necessity for an early start, 
even if she should be obliged to make the 
journey alone, had been a growing conviction 
in her childish mind. But as she lay there 
thinking the matter over, she determined to 
make one more effort to induce her brother 
to join her ; if that failed, then, let what might 
come, she would start off alone that very 
afternoon, instead of returning home. 

She lay quite still, half awake, half dream- 
ing, she hardly knew which, until a firm, 
quick step on the rustling leaves caused her 
to spring up and begin to set the rock table, 
using half a dozen bright red sumach leaves 
for dishes. 

“ See, Darry, what a nice chair and table 
I have found !” she exclaimed, gleefully point- 
ing them out as he drew near. “ Now we can 
play picnic together, as I used to do with 
Fanny and Dick in the woods near the 
mines.” 

The young man smiled, and sitting down 


the slough in the meadow. 25 

in the moss-cushioned seat, drew his sister to 
his knee. 

“ Are you not very tired ?” he asked, with 
an anxious glance at the child’s white cheeks, 
from which the glow of exercise had quite 
faded. “ I should have gone without any 
dinner, to make me remember not to be so 
careless again.” 

“ Oh no, Darry, I liked to come,” said Joy, 
earnestly. “ It’s ever so much prettier here 
than in the mine woods.” 

“ Then you are not sorry we had to leave 
there?” 

“No, indeed, Darry!” and Joy shook her 
head very decidedly. “ Only, I’d like to see 
my book man again.” 

A little cloud came over her brother’s face, 
but he remained silent. 

“ He said he ’spected to meet us both by 
and by in the beautiful land up in the skies, 
but I’m ’fraid he’ll get tired waiting if we 
don’t start soon.” 

An involuntary contraction of the brow was 
the only sign that the young man heard as 
he stared soberly down into the sand gorge 
below with a troubled, preoccupied air, not 
unusual with him of late. 


3 


26 


LITTLE JOY. 


Joy eyed him anxiously, hesitating how far 
it was safe to venture. 

“ Darry,” she said, at last, in a low, half- 
frightened tone, “ don’t you mean to start 
soon? You- know you almost promised the 
book man you would, and I’m so tired 
waiting.” 

The young man turned and met the child’s 
wistful eyes. 

“ You need not wait for me, little woman,” 
he said, not unkindly. 

“But, Darry,” said Joy, almost tearfully, 
“ it would be much nicer to go together.” 

Her brother hesitated. 

“The way is all blocked up,” he said, at 
length, in a tone of suppressed feeling. 

“But, Darry — ” 

“Well, what then, child?” 

“The man said to take the first step, and 
keep asking, and we’d be sure to come out 
right.” 

“ The first step would take the bread and 
butter out of all your mouths,” murmured 
Darry, with some bitterness. 

Joy opened her eyes in great surprise, but 
her brother added no word of explanation. 
He reached out his hand for a slice of bread 


THE SLOUGH IN THE MEADOW. 27 

and meat, which he disposed of with the air 
of a man who did not at all know what he 
was eating. 

Something in his expression shut Joy’s 
mouth. She ventured no further remon- 
strance. Should she give up all idea of the 
journey Zionward, or start off by herself? 

“Why don’t you eat your dinner?” de- 
manded her brother, suddenly. 

Joy took a turnover and nibbled at it with 
a very dissatisfied face. 

The birds fluttered about, giving once in a 
while a soft chirp of impatience at the crumbs 
falling too near Joy’s feet for their content. 
Joy’s restless eyes ran along a sunbeam path 
to a bit of bright hillside, where the sky 
and earth seemed to meet. A new idea struck 
her; she fancied she could see the outlines of 
misty, pearly- white gates just above those 
low, purple hills. 

Darry was deep in a fit of troubled thought ; 
there was a frequent contraction of his bushy 
eyebrows, and the lips were very tightly 
pressed together. Joy glanced at him wist- 
fully once or twice. Should she tell him 
she had at length found the road? But 
when she looked again, the cloud - gates 


28 


LITTLE JOY. 


had entirely vanished. No ! a better way 
would be to go alone first, then, when sure, 
return and act as guide to the rest of the 
family. 

She took a careful survey of the country 
lying between her present position and those 
distant hills. It was mostly broad meadow 
lands and broomcorn flats, with a few farm- 
houses scattered here and there ; crossing the 
canal and river would be the only serious 
difficulty. 

“ Mr. Goodwills wicket-gate and the house 
Beautiful must be somewhere along the road,” 
thought the child as she turned over the pros 
and cons in her mind, “ and if I want any- 
thing to eat, why, there’s my ten-cent piece 
to pay for it.” 

And pulling at a black string tied around 
her neck, she drew out from the bosom of her 
dress a bright silver bit, which *she eyed with 
great complacency. 

“ That will go ever so far ! But 111 fill my 
pail with nuts beforehand, so as to be sure.” 

A little sigh she could not quite repress 
roused Darry : shaking off his own trouble- 
some thoughts, he said cheerfully : 

“ Well, what have you been thinking about ? 


THE SLOUGH IN THE MEADOW. 29 

This has not been a very lively picnic so far, 
has it ? Suppose you and I go chestnutting 
until the horn sounds ? There are some 
famous trees over there.” 

Joy’s face brightened perceptibly. 

“ Darry,” she said, abruptly, as they were on 
their way to the nut ground, “ how far off are 
those hills over yonder ?” 

Her brother glanced in the direction her 
finger indicated. 

“Twenty or thirty miles, I should sup- 
pose.” 

“ And how do they get over to the other 
side of the river ?” 

“ There are bridges somewhere,” said Darry, 
indifferently. “ See, Joy ! the squirrels are 
ahead of us.” 

A noisy flock of the bushy-tailed little 
creatures scampered off in all directions at 
their approach. But the supply left was 
abundant, and a few vigorous shakes of the 
young man’s strong arm brought down a 
small shower upon their heads. Darry filled 
his pockets, and would have done the same by 
the tin pail of his little sister had she not pre- 
ferred to gather her own supply. She sat 
down on the ground and took it leisurely, 


30 


LITTLE JOY. 


stopping to rest or talk, and once or twice 
giving her brother a look of earnest, affection- 
ate sorrow that went right to his heart. He 
had no suspicion of her childish plan of leav- 
ing him, but his manner was more than usu- 
ally gentle and tender as he laughed and 
talked brightly, trying to make his “ little 
woman ” feel gay and childlike. He agreed 
with his wife in thinking she dwelt too much 
on such grave, serious subjects for so young 
and sickly a child. He went back to his 
work, when the horn sounded, debating in his 
mind how to prevent this in the future. 
Would it not be better to send her to school 
among other children of her own age, in spite 
of her lameness and feeble health ? 

Nevertheless, the little girl’s words found a 
faithful ally in a previously awakened con- 
science, which warned him she might be wiser 
than he on this point. For some reason, 
Darry’s companions found him very unsociable 
and sober during the rest of that day. 

In the mean time, after filling the tin pail 
full of nuts, Joy had started forth, on her pil- 
grimage toward those distant hills where she 
suspected the pearly gates into the Zion-land 
must open. 


THE SLOUGH IN THE MEADOW. 31 

The path down the side bank was rough 
and steep, only to be accomplished with great 
caution and slowness on the part of the little 
girl. Putting the handle of the tin pail in 
her mouth, she held it firmly with her teeth 
while working her way painfully and slowly 
to the level meadow-ground below, now 
limping carefully, holding fast to the tree- 
branches and wild undergrowth on one side, 
while supported by the crutch on the other, 
and now creeping along on her hands and 
knees, dragging the crutch after. Once fairly 
there, she sat down on the grass to rest and 
decide as to the next step. 

Joy’s heart beat very fast with mingled fear 
and exercise. Her eyes filled with quick tears 
as she listened to the men at their work only 
a few yards from where she was sitting ; she 
thought of Darry’s sorrow, returning home to 
find his little sister had taken him at his word 
and started without him. She looked across 
to the distant horizon, so'" very far away, re- 
membering with a sinking spirit that she 
might be obliged to pass more than one night 
alone in the open field without protection or 
shelter. 

Poor little pilgrim ! her courage almost 


32 


LITTLE JOY. 


failed her. She was just ready to give it all 
up and go back with Darry to her city home. 
But under that crippled form and white, 
childish face dwelt a brave, firm little spirit. 
Joy did not easily yield when she had once 
made up her mind. 

“ If I go back now,” she thought, “ none of 
us will ever get to that beautiful place, for it 
will be a great deal harder to start again, and 
like as not the gates would be shut. The 
book man said we must not mind a few hard- 
ships on the way, for when once we got there 
it would be so pretty and happy we’d forget 
all about them. I guess I’d better sing some. 
That’ll make me feel better and keep me from 
being afraid.” 

So saying, she hung her pail on her arm and 
started boldly across the meadow, keeping her 
eyes fixed on the purple hills and singing 
softly : 

“ Come to that happy land, 

Come, come away : 

Why will ye doubting stand, 

Why still — ” 

But the song came to a sudden conclusion 
and the little pilgrim to an ‘equally abrupt 
halt; she was stuck fast in the mud, and 


THE SLOUGH IN THE MEADOW. 33 

found herself sinking deeper and deeper every 
■ moment. 

Alas ! just in that particular portion of the 
meadows the fresh, long grass covered a strip 
of soft morass caused by the spreading of sev- 
eral little hillside springs. Unwittingly the 
little girl had walked right into a miry 
slough the very first thing. Owing to her 
lameness and the heavy pail of chestnuts, she 
was in much the same plight as Christian, 
who could not get out without Help. In the 
mean time, she stood already knee-deep and 
was in a great puzzle what to do. 

Most children would have been too much 
frightened to do anything but cry, Joy, hav- 
ing studied a similar mishap in Pilgrim’s Pro- 
gress, was more inclined to look upon it as a 
proof she was in the right road. 

“Only I don’t see the wicket-gate,” said 
the child, knitting her brows and thinking as 
hard as ever she could. 

But after struggling some time in vain to 
reach the opposite side, and finding her posi- 
tion becoming worse instead of better, she 
grew really frightened. 

“ What ever shall I do ?” she exclaimed, the 
tears starting and her heart sinking very low 
C 


34 


LITTLE JOY. 


indeed. “ The book man said if we got in 
any trouble we must ask the kind Father up 
in the skies to send us help. But I’m afraid,” 
she added, casting a doubtful look upward, 
“I cannot halloo loud enough to make him 
hear.” 

However, she dropped her pail and crutch, 
and clasping her hands very tightly together, 
looked up in the deep blue sky so far over- 
head and shouted with all her might, 

“ Dear Father way up in Zion-land, please 
send Mr. Help, ’cause I’m stuck fast and can- 
not get out alone.” 

It was the cry of childish faith, feeble and 
imperfect as it was, reaching the great white 
throne in Zion-land, appealing in its simple 
trust and helplessness to a Father’s loving 
heart. Was ever such a cry unanswered? 

It had hardly left her lips when a stout, 
red-cheeked farmer-boy came running to the 
rescue. “ Halloa! what’s the matter?” he 
exclaimed, in a tone of great surprise, as he 
caught sight of the little prisoner. 

The child stretched out both her hands 
with an exclamation of joyous relief. 

The boy laughed good-naturedly, pulled off 
his boots and Stockings, rolled his pants up to 


THE SLOUGH IN THE MEADOW. 35 


his knees, then wading through the mud, lifted 
Joy in his strong arm and bore her in triumph 
over to the other side. 

“ Thank you, Mr. Help !” said Joy, earnest- 
ly ; “but oh, please, wouldn’t you go back just 
once more for my pail and crutch ?” 

“To be sure I will,” responded the lad, 
heartily, bestowing a pitying glance on the 
lame limb. 

Joy thanked him gratefully as he restored 
them in a very muddy condition, then began 
to wipe them off on the grass most vigorously. 

The little pilgrim herself was a forlorn- 
looking specimen. Her shoes and lower gar- 
ments were loaded with mud and stained with 
dark, greenish spots. She eyed herself dis- 
consolately, then looked up and met her com- 
panion’s good-natured, quizzical smile with a 
deprecating look. 

“ What business has a little chit like you to 
be wandering about the country alone in this 
way?” he asked, half in jest and half in earn- 
est. 

“I’m going to the Zion-land,” said the 
child, with a faint flush on her pale cheeks. 
“But I didn’t think the slough came so 


soon.' 


36 


LITTLE JOY. 


The lad’s expression of amused wonder 
struck the child ; a chilling doubt darkened 
her face. 

“ I know I’m a figure,” she said, humbly, 
“ but I guess Mr. Goodwill at the wicket- 
gate will let me wash my things at his house. 
Please, is it very far?” 

The lad’s eyes twinkled with fun, but the 
wistful, pleading look of the dark brown pair 
bent so anxiously upon him touched a chival- 
rous spot in his heart. With an effort he 
kept his mouth perfectly sober as he replied 
reassuringly, 

“ There’s a house not far from here with a 
wicket-gate where they’ll be sure to wash you 
up all right. Only,” he added, with a rather 
comical look, “there’s no Mr. Goodwill there 
just now, but there’s a mistress who deserves 
the name as much as anybody I know. I guess 
you’ll find her first rate.” 

The little lame girl, looking greatly relieved, 
took up her crutch and pail, ready for a start. 

“ Just follow along by the side of that brook, 
and you’ll come to the gate in about five min- 
utes. It’s the first house you see, so you 
cannot possibly miss it. I’d go and show you 
the way, only I cannot leave my horses.” 


THE SLOUGH IN THE MEADOW. 37 

He stood looking after the little tired 
child as she went slowly across the meadow 
with an expression of mingled interest and 
amusement : 

“ There’s a go! Where on earth did the 
funny little thing pick up all those queer 
notions ? Guess she’s been reading old Bun- 
yan without a commentary, and a pretty 
chase he’d have led her if I had not happened 
to come along just then. Never mind, Mrs. 
Goodwill will put her straight in more ways 
than one;” and with a pleased little laugh to 
himself, as though amazingly tickled about 
something, he went back to his fall plough- 
ing. 


CHAPTEE III. 

THE HOUSE WITH THE WICKET-GATE. 

“ The feeble footsteps guiding 

When from the path they stray, 

Who leads to bliss abiding ? 

Christ is our only way.” 

HE little stream ran on before to show 
the way. It was so clear that every 
pebble of its stony bed was visible; 
above, a double row of willows threw 
a pleasant screen over the little foot- 
path which wandered through the grass at its 
side. Joy followed where the stream led un- 
til she came to a rustic bridge. On the oppo- 
site side was an orchard of old apple trees, 
whose twisted trunks leaned this way and that. 
Beyond the orchard was a low wicket-gate, 
and beyond the gate a snug, unpretending 
farmhouse, with steep, red roof, lichen-painted 
and moss-grown. 

Joy hesitated; that must be Mrs. Good- 

38 



THE HOUSE WITH THE WICKET-GATE. 39 

wills house, but it did not look a bit like the 
picture in her book. 

She crossed to the other side. A new idea 
struck her. Sitting down on the bank she 
drew off her soiled shoes and stockings ; dip- 
ping her feet into the clear water below, she 
rubbed them vigorously against each other 
until they were quite clean and shining. 
Then she wiped them dry on the grass, and 
stretching them out, surveyed them with an 
air of great satisfaction. 

“ That's a sight nicer,” she said, drawing a 
long breath of content. “ Now I’ll wash my 
shoes and stockings and leave them to dry in 
the sun.” 

The brook ran steadily on under the low 
bushes and long meadow-grass to the distant 
river, sparkling and dimpling in the sunshine 
and humming a quiet, gurgling tune to itself. 
The little child left it and went through the 
orchard up to the back door of the red farm- 
house. 

Tinkling cow-bells came faintly across 
from the distant pasture, a party of swallows 
twittered and darted about their nests in the 
old apple trees ; all else around was quiet and 
seemingly deserted. Even the barn door 


40 


LITTLE JOY. 


stood wide open, revealing only empty stalls. 
The yard was freshly swept and a pan of 
chicken food stood by the low stone steps, but 
the chickens were either napping or off on an 
exploring expedition ; not a solitary hen was 
to be seen. 

The brick walk leading from the gate to 
the doorstep was as neat as a pin ; so was the 
little shed in which the wood was piled. Joy 
was loth to cross them with her muddy, drip- 
ping garments. A glance at the shining bare 
feet reassured her, and she went boldly on 
through the shed and a small outer room filled 
with bright tin pans and milk pails. 

The door of the next room stood slightly ajar. 
She hesitated and gave one or two little unheed- 
ed raps, then pushed it partly open and stood 
arrested on the threshold. A large, pleasant 
kitchen, with plenty of windows and a bright 
yellow floor as beautifully clean and spotless 
as a floor could well be made lay beyond. 
Every other bit of wood-work in the room 
matched the floor for neatness ; the hearth was 
clean swept up, and a handsome tortoise-shell 
cat lay in front of the fire all curled up in a 
ring, dozing away as cats will doze half of their 
valuable time. In an arm-chair by the open 


THE HOUSE WITH THE WICKET-GATE. 41 

window sat puss’s mistress, a little stout, oldish 
woman with gray hair and a shrewd, kindly, 
wrinkled face. Some knitting- work lay in her 
lap, but she was not busy with it just then ; 
her toil-hardened hands were folded restfully 
above her clean calico apron, and her thought- 
ful gaze was fixed on something outside the 
window. 

Everything about the room and its occu- 
pants was so exquisitely neat and spotless that 
Joy felt out of place, and cast a regretful 
look at the little spouts aiid rivulets dripping 
down from her dress. At every step streams 
of blackness had left a disfiguring spot be- 
hind her. 

“ Please, ma’am, can I come in ?” said she, 
in a timid, troubled voice. 

Puss gave a soft purr-purr and half opened 
her sleepy eyes to see what was wanted, then 
curling herself up in a rounder ball than ever, 
shut them again. The old woman’s ears were 
not so wide awake as they once had been, or 
else her thoughts must have travelled very far 
away, where the soft voice did not reach, for 
she never turned her head, even when Joy 
gave another louder rap. 

But puss gave an indignant purr and 

4 * 


42 


LITTLE JOY. 


opened her eyes to their very widest extent 
as the child passed by with hesitating, noise- 
less step. 

“Why, where did yon come from, little 
dear?” exclaimed the old woman, turning 
with a sudden start as a little hand was laid 
on her knee. “ How did you get so near 
without my hearing you ?” 

“ I knocked,” said Joy, in a tone of apology. 

Puss indignantly ruffled up her spotted fur 
and walked off with a contemptuous sniff that 
seemed to say : 

“ That little tap a knock, indeed ! Why, I 
could make more noise myself.” 

But so soon as a word or two of explanation 
had made the mistress understand the child’s 
mishap, she arose, and with brisk, tender 
hands removed the wet, soiled garments. 
Then wrapping her in an old calico double 
gown of her own, she lifted the child right 
up in her strong, motherly arms and depos- 
ited her on a wide, soft lounge in the corner 
of the kitchen. 

“ There, now ! shut your eyes and take a 
good nap, and when you wake up, you’ll find 
a fairy has changed your clothes for fresh, 
clean ones.” 


THE HOUSE WITH THE WICKET-GATE. 43 

She threw an old coverlid over her, then 
gathering the garments in her arms, carried 
them off into the back shed. 

The long walk and subsequent mishap had 
quite exhausted the little girl’s frail frame. 
The soft cushions and quiet room were very- 
soothing to body and mind. Soon the long 
lashes rested quietly upon the pale cheeks, 
and before she knew it Joy was fast asleep. 
The old family clock on the opposite side of 
the room ticked away the moments and 
struck the half hours and hours as they 
slowly rolled on. The early afternoon was 
past, and still the tired little pilgrim slept, 
unconscious of all around, her hand under 
her cheek, over which a faint tinge of pink 
colour was slowly stealing, and the western 
sunbeams kissing the shining bare feet peep- 
ing out below the old coverlid. 

A hand laid upon her head and a strange, 
cheery voice at length aroused her. 

“ Wake up, little dear, and see where the 
sun has gone to while you have been in 
dreamland.” 

Slowly the child rubbed open her heavy 
eyelids, and saw the kind old woman stand- 
ing by the lounge with a child’s clothes — 


44 


LITTLE JOY. 


could they indeed be hers ! — all washed and 
neatly ironed, hanging over her arm. 

She laughed, a pleased, kindly little laugh, 
at Joy’s puzzled efforts to remember where 
she was, then helped her to dress, and mak- 
ing her sit down at the table, set before her a 
large yellow bowl of rich country milk and a 
plate of delicious white and brown bread. 
Joy thought nothing in all her life before had 
ever tasted quite so good. 

The old woman, with her hands at the side 
of her waist, stood looking on, smiling to see 
how easy it was for the child to obey her com- 
mand, “ Not to leave a drop of milk behind.” 

There was a rosy glow in the very centre of 
each white cheek, and a bright, grateful look 
in her soft, brown eyes, when the lame girl at 
length pushed back her chair and took up her 
crutch. 

“Now, then, would you like to come and 
see me give the chickens their tea, my dear ?” 

“ Oh, if you please, ma’am,” replied Joy, 
quickly. The old woman led the way through 
the dairy and woodshed. All the muddy spots 
had been removed ; everything was in its usual 
perfect order. 

There was only one little fellow in sight 


THE HOUSE WITH THE WICKET-GATE. 45 

when they came out on the back doorstep. 
He seemed to have been sent to keep watch 
and act as a sort of tea-bell to all the rest, 
for as soon as ever his bright black eyes 
caught sight of the old woman with the pan 
in her hand, he ran off as fast as his short 
feathered legs would carry him. A moment 
after, a large number of roosters, hens, and 
chickens came scampering back with the sen- 
tinel at their head. 

Joy looked on with much interest while 
they scrambled and tumbled over each other 
in their eagerness to seize the corn her com- 
panion scattered freely around. 

“How you must come to see my garden, 
and I will give you a handful of flowers to 
carry home with you,” said the old woman. 

Joy started, and gave a sudden wistful 
glance up at the sensible, kindly old face. 

“Please, ma’am, I’m on my way to the 
Zion-land.” If a bombshell had suddenly 
exploded in her quiet domain, Mrs. Pearson 
could hardly have been more startled. She 
stood still and stared at her little guest in 
speechless amazement. 

But as she looked steadily at the earnest 
face, all quivering with wistful eagerness and 


46 


LITTLE JOY. 


hope, there came a soft lustre in the old wo- 
man’s eyes, and she put her hand gently on 
the upturned head. 

The look of tender interest emboldened 
Joy to ask : 

“ Please, ma'am, will you tell me which road 
to take to get up to the pearly sky gates?” 
The pleasant, wrinkled face grew very sober 
and troubled; but when the child, pointing 
across the valley to where the meadows 
swelled into those low hills so misty in their 
deep blueness, asked if that were not the 
entrance to the Zion-land, a little smile broke 
up the sober lines of her mouth. It was a 
very sweet smile, but it cast a shadow over 
the little girl’s face, for she saw it meant 
“No.” 

“ Little dear,” said the old woman, kindly, * 
“ we can never reach the Zion-land on our own 
earth-stained feet; each must wait patiently 
in the place the Lord has put her until he 
sends a strong white-winged messenger to 
bring her up safely to that far-off home above.” 

The child looked up with puzzled, pleading 
eyes : 

“ The book man said it would not do to 
wait, or the gates would be shut. He wanted 


THE HOUSE WITH THE WICKET-GATE. 47 

all to start, right off, even the poor weak lit- 
tle children like me. He said the Lord Christ 
was waiting and looking for us ; and that if 
we said ‘For Jesus’ sake,’ we could all get in.’ 

“Who was the book man?” asked Mrs. 
Pearson. i 

“ I don’t know his real name,” replied the 
child. “He came to the mines ’way out West 
when Darry worked there, and stayed at our 
house six whole days. He had books to sell, 
and he gave Darry a beautiful one with pic- 
tures — all about a man who left his home and 
travelled on and on, over the hills and past 
the lions and giants, until he crossed the river 
to the Zion-land. The men would not listen 
to him much— they only laughed or got an- 
gry ; but every morning he used to get all 
the children together and teach us hymns 
and talk to us about the ‘ Beautiful Zion built 
above.’” 

“ And so you thought you would start off 
all by yourself ?” said the old woman, reaching 
down to take Joy’s hand in hers and softly 
patting it. She smiled a little, but her eyes 
were dim with unshed tears as she thought- 
fully noted the crutch and tiny child who had 
turned her face so resolutely Zionward. 


48 


LITTLE JOY. 


“ Come and see my garden first, and then 
you and I will have a little talk together,” 
said the old woman ; and still retaining Joy's 
hand, she led her around to the other side of 
the house. But as soon as she came in sight 
of the flower-beds the little lame child stopped 
short with an exclamation of delight. It was 
the prettiest and sweetest-smelling place she 
had ever been in. 

In the centre was quite a large bit of grass- 
plat, so thick and closely cut that it had all 
the richness of a green velvet carpet. A 
wide border, filled with a great variety of gay- 
coloured fragrant flowers, ran all around; and 
on the other side of the gravel walk were 
beds of lavender, verbenas, violets, and even a 
number of late roses in full bloom. The low 
fence which separated the enclosure from the 
surrounding meadows and orchard was almost 
entirely concealed beneath hyacinth, bean, 
canary-bird vine, and other creepers, against 
which background there was a fine display of 
chrysanthemums, purple, yellow, white, and 
variegated, stocks, also, and asters and tall 
hollyhocks. 

Brilliant butterflies flitted about as if they 
enjoyed life after their own fashion here amaz- 


THE HOUSE WITH THE WICKET-GATE. 49 

ingly, and bees were diligently sucking tbe 
honey from the sweetest flowers and trans- 
porting it home to a row of hives at the lower 
end of the garden. 

The old woman led Joy to a rustic seat 
under the shade of an old pear tree in the 
centre of the grass, and lifting her to her 
knee, asked what she thought of the garden. 

“ It's beautiful, ma’am," said Joy, earnest- 
ly. “I never was in such a pretty place be- 
fore.” 

“My son says it's my idol,” said Mrs. 
Pearson, smiling down at the eager face. 
“ But I think, since the Lord gave us such 
beautiful flowers to enjoy, he meant us to cul- 
tivate and love them.” 

“ Please, ma’am, did the Lord give you all 
these ?” asked Joy, in surprise. 

“Yes, indeed, he gave me these and every- 
thing else I have in the world. He’s my very 
best and kindest friend ; and if you ask him, 
he’ll be yours.” 

“ I did ask him to send some one to help me 
out of the mud,” said little Joy, “but I had 
to halloa very loud to make him hear.” 

“ No, dear, he can hear the faintest whis- 
per.” 

5 D 


50 


LITTLE JOY. 


The child looked surprised, but pleased. 

“ He must have real quick ears, then,” she 
said, thoughtfully. “Please, ma’am, is the 
Zion-land as pretty as your garden ?” 

The old woman put her hand softly over the 
little girl’s head once or twice without speak- 
ing. That far-away look Joy had noticed as 
she sat by the kitchen window came back into 
her eyes. 

“ Every spot is beautiful to me where my 
Lord is, and my garden seems full of his pres- 
ence, but in that lovely Zion-land he will be 
the sun; in his visible, glorious presence 
there will be fulness of joy. This is only the 
shadow-land. If the stray beams make it so 
sweet, what will the land itself be ? Do you 
want that kingdom to come ?” continued the 
old woman, gently. 

“ Oh yes !” said Joy. “ But please, ma’am, 
I suppose — ” and she stopped short. 

“Well, dear?” 

“ I suppose I’ll have to wait till the angel 
comes ?” 

“ Not to have it begin in your heart.” 

“Oh!” said Joy again, knitting up her 
brows and thinking harder than ever. 

“ ‘ I am the door,’ says the Lord Jesus.” 


THE HOUSE WITH THE WICKET-GATE. 51 

The old woman paused and looked down 
into the child’s soft, intelligent eye. 

“Dear, come to Jesus. Keep very, very 
close to him. He is the way to the Zion- 
land.” 

“ I suppose I’d have to find him first?” and 
the child looked up inquiringly. 

Mrs. Pearson’s smile was very grave and 
sweet : 

“ He has found you, dear. Keep calling to 
him and hearkening for his voice, and you 
will soon hear it answering words of peace 
and joy and love in your little heart.” 

Joy looked at the flowers and broad land- 
scape and distant low hills in silence. For a 
few moments only the busy hum of the bees 
as they hovered to and fro and the soft, sweet 
note of a bird hunting worms for its supper 
were heard. Joy stood thinking — thinking 
with a wistful, listening look. Suddenly the 
sober little face brightened perceptibly, and a 
wee smile broke up the grave set of the child- 
ish lips. 

“Please, ma’am, I cannot hear the voice 
yet, but all the trees and birds and flowers 
seem to whisper right in my eyes : 

“ 1 Joy, little Joy, he’s coming ! keep calling.' ” 


52 


LITTLE JOY. 


Mrs. Pearson bent down and gave tbe happy- 
child two or three warm, motherly kisses. 

“ And so the good Lord let you take this 
long walk to listen to a flower sermon ? He 
often sends me a sweet message of trust and 
comfort through these same little preachers. 
Come, you must have a handful of them to 
take home with you, and then I must send 
you away lest your friends should be uneasy.” 

The bunch was a large and very choice one, 
and Joy’s eyes glistened with pleasure when 
it was put into the top of her pail. 

Mrs. Pearson went with her as far as the 
rustic bridge, where they found the shoes and 
stockings all safe and dry, and then pointing 
out the right path back to the mill, she 
sent the little pilgrim on her homeward way 
rejoicing. 

The old woman stood on the bridge and 
watched her as she slowly limped along, the 
crutch under one arm and the pail carefully 
hung on the other, but Joy never once turned 
back to look at the distant hills nor up into 
the fair sky above. All the way she was 
murmuring softly : “ Dear Lord Jesus, please 
bring the kingdom inside, and let Joy hear thy 
voice speaking to her.” 


CHAPTER IV. 

“THY KINGDOM COME” 

“ Pray, and thou wilt hear him near; 

Wait, he’ll lead thee to the light; 

Seek him early, seek him late, 

Fear not, doubt not, pray and wait.” 

f ^VERYTHHSTG- looked somewhat weary 
| and quiet in the late afternoon as the 
) lame girl, letting down the bars, came 
once more out at the mill settlement. 
The road was very dry, and the heavy 
wagons rolling incessantly past on their way 
home from the city raised cloudy of dust. 
The farmers and the women folk looked ex- 
hausted with their long day’s' shopping; the 
little children were sober and tired ; even the 
horses hung down their heads and seemed 
scarcely to have ambition enough for a slow 
jog-trot. The roadside grass was whitened 
with dust, and the dowers had wilted and 

5 * 53 


54 


LITTLE JOY. 


drooped beneath the warmth of the October 
sun. 

Joy’s nap and bowl of bread and milk had 
so refreshed her that she had no sympathy 
with this state of things. With a bright face 
she sat down on one of the huge logs scat- 
tered around the sawmill, and waited for 
Darry to pass on 'his way home from work. 

Soon after the city clocks struck six the 
men began to come along in groups of three 
and four, laughing and talking loudly. At 
the sight of his sister sitting among the scat- 
tered timber, Darry left his companions and 
came toward her with an exclamation of 
surprise. 

“ Why, little woman ! I thought you were 
safe home long ago !” 

“ I got stuck in the mud, but a big boy 
helped me out,” replied Joy, composedly. 
“ And a real nice old woman washed me up 
clean and gave me all these pretty flowers. 
See!” and she held them out with mingled 
pride and pleasure. 

“ Pray, what business had you to go near 
the mud ?” asked the young man, good-natured- 
ly, stooping down to smell the flowers with 
a look of admiration. 


THY KINGDOM COME. 


55 


“ I was trying to find the road to Zion-land. 
I did not know we had to wait for the angel 
to come, and I was ’fraid the gates would be 
shut.” 

“ Pshaw, child ! I thought you had more 
sense,” said Darry, a little impatiently. But 
he lifted her up in his strong arms most ten- 
derly and carried her down the road leading 
to the city. Joy put the hand that bore the 
crutch over his shoulder, and held fast to the 
pail containing the nuts and flowers with the 
other. Then she looked up in his face and 
said gravely : 

“ Are you angry, Darry ? You said I need 
not wait for you.” 

11 Angry ! No, indeed. But you must never 
go off alone in that way again. You might 
be lost, or some dreadful thing happen to 
you.” 

“ No, I never will, dear old boy !” and she 
clasped his neck tighter and laid her head 
down on his shoulder. “ It 'most broke my 
heart to leave you, but I meant to come back 
and 'splain the way to you as soon as I’d 
asked them to keep the gates open just a tiny 
bit longer. But my old woman says we can- 
not get to the Zion-land 'cept on wings ; we 


56 


LITTLE JOY. 


must just stay at our own houses and keep 
asking for the kingdom to come inside of our 
bodies.” 

“ And what then ?” asked her brother, with 
an amused look. “ Will the wings grow and 
you fly away from me, after all ?” 

“ I don’t know, Darry ; I guess the wings 
don’t come till we’re clear inside the gates. 
But we’ll hear the Lord Jesus whispering in 
our ear all the time, and the birds and flowers 
will all talk to us about him, and then some 
day, when the kingdom’s come enough, I 
s’pose he’ll send one of the great white shin- 
ing angels to carry us up to the Zion-land 
right in his strong arms.” 

The young man looked wonderingly at the 
little child in his arms, her earnest face all 
radiant with a simple, childlike trust and 
hope in an unseen Saviour and far-away spirit- 
land. Then with a sigh he gathered the frail 
form closer, with the feeling it might be 
the angel messenger would come and take 
her away from him to the longed-for Zion- 
land before he could make up his mind to 
part. 

For a few moments Joy rested quietly 
there, then she began to sing softly, 


THY KINGDOM COME. 


57 


“Jesus loves me ; He who died 
Heaven’s gate to open wide, 

He will wash away my sin, 

Let his little child come in. 

Yes, Jesus loves me, Jesus loves me, 

The Bible tells me so.” 

“ Where did you learn that, Joy?” 

She raised her head and looked up in sur- 
prise. 

“Why, don’t you know? It is one of my 
book man’s hymns, only I can’t ’member all 
the verses.” 

She laid her head down again, and was still 
for a moment. 

“Darry, didn’t the book man give you a 
Bible ?” she asked, suddenly. 

“ No, Joy. I had one that belonged to our 
mother,” he replied, with a little troubled 
accent in his voice. 

“ Oh, Darry, wouldn’t you lend it to me 
sometimes? It’s such a lovely book! My 
book man said it told lots about the Zion- 
land.” 

“You must be very careful of it, then, little 
woman. I promised mother always to keep it 
for her sake.” 

Joy nodded her assent. 


58 


LITTLE JOY. 


“ Did the angel take her off to the Zion- 
land ?” she demanded, eagerly. 

“ She’s there if any one is,” said her broth- 
er, his eyes growing dim and his voice fal- 
tering. 

The sun was just setting when they reached 
the bridge ; its golden rays lay along the open 
country and illumined the tall steeples, fac- 
tories, and houses of the city beyond. Joy 
begged to stop a moment and watch the gor- 
geous clouds shooting up from the western 
horizon as the brilliant ball of fire slowly dis- 
appeared behind the hill-tops. 

As she looked a sweet, bright expression 
grew on the little face ; turning, she gave her 
brother a very earnest, wistful glance. 

“Well, what now?” he asked, in a grave 
tone, not unkindly. 

“ Darry, I think a little bit of the kingdom 
must be come inside already, ’cause I can ’most 
feel the Lord Jesus’s hand on my head, and I 
seem to hear him whisper right in my ear, 
1 Come closer, little lame girl, and put your 
head right down on my shoulder, for I love the 
little children.’ You know, Darry, the book 
man said he wouldn’t let the men who thought 
they were ’most too little send them away, but 


.THY KINGDOM COME. 59 

took them up in his arms just as you have me 
now.” 

The young man did not say “ Pshaw !” this 
time, nor even smile. He drew another long 
sigh and turned away his head without a 
word. 

“ Darry !” 

He turned and looked down at her with a 
very, very sober face. 

“What makes you sigh so, Darry? Are 
you sorry to have me Jesus’s little girl, too ?” 

“ No, indeed, little woman,” he said, heart- 

i!y- 

“ Then what makes you act so sorry ?” she 
asked, stroking his face with her soft hand. 

“I’ll be a good boy and not do so any 
more,” he replied, with a slight smile. But 
the smile was too sad to satisfy the child’s 
keen, intelligent eye. 

“Darry, don’t you want the kingdom to 
come to you ?” 

Her voice had a timid, half-frightened ac- 
cent, for she understood him well enough to 
know he might possibly dislike the question. 
He hesitated, but there was a great longing 
in the clear, honest eyes. 

“ Yes, Joy, I do, indeed.” 


60 


LITTLE JOY. 


“ Oh, then, Darry, why don’t you ask ? The 
old woman said he could hear even the tiniest 
whispers.” 

Again her brother hesitated ; his lip quiv- 
ered, and the muscles of his face worked 
strongly. 

“It is not enough to ask, 1 Thy kingdom 
come,’ unless we are ready to give ourselves 
up to do the Lord’s will too.” 

“ Are you sorry, Darry ?” asked the child, 
wonderingly. “ It’s nice to please people 
when they love you.” 

The young man’s face flushed; he bent 
down and kissed her tenderly. 

“ So it is, but it 'is sometimes very hard to 
displease others we care for.” 

Joy looked up with an earnest, half-bewil- 
dered glance. 

“Are you ’fraid the angel will carry you 
away from Lindy and the baby? Perhaps, 
if we asked, he’d take them too.” Darry 
gave a little start. He seemed about to 
speak, but checked himself, as he saw the sun 
had quite disappeared and the bright colours 
were fast fading in the western sky. He was 
not sorry to find it so late as he replied, 

“ It will not do to keep tea waiting any 


THY KINGDOM GOME. 61 

longer. You and I must go home now and 
finish our talk some other day.” 

The kingdom of God, as plainly set forth 
by the constant teachings and illustrations of 
our Lord when on earth, is essentially spir- 
itual in its nature and workings. It “ cometh 
not with observation : neither shall they say, 
lo here ! or, lo there ! for behold the kingdom 
of God is within you.” It is “not meat and 
drink; but righteousness, and peace, and joy 
in the Holy Ghost.” Those who would enter 
therein must receive it with the faith and sim- 
plicity of a little child; to such it becomes 
the embodiment of divine power and wisdom ; 
for, as it is written, “ they shall all be taught 
of God.” As a grain of mustard seed in its 
germ, as wind in its unseen, intangible na- 
ture, as leaven in its effect upon the whole 
life and character, so is this mysterious inner 
kingdom of God to the soul. It is the 
indwelling presence alone which brings it: 
Christ in us now is the assurance of present 
peace, the promise of entire sanctification, 
the hope of future glory. Blessed, then, are 
those poor in spirit, who, emptied of self- 
righteousness and human strength, open wide 
the doors of the heart to this Prince of Peace : 


6 


62 


LITTLE JOY. 


“ theirs is the kingdom.” And this kingdom 
was now being brought by Jesus into little 
Joy’s heart. The seed of the word dropped 
months before by a humble, prayerful labourer 
in the Master’s vineyard had not fallen into 
stony or unfruitful ground. In spite of ad- 
verse circumstances and limited facilities for 
its development, a divine power had caused 
it to take deep -root and germinate ; and now 
it began to put forth many little buds and 
blossoms. 

Shut out by delicate health and her lame- 
ness from most childish companions and 
amusements, Joy’s life, though not unhappy, 
had been unusually lonely and self-concen- 
trated. Darry was away at his work the 
greater portion of the time. Her sister-in- 
law was kind, but indifferent. She saw that 
Joy had plenty to eat, was neatly clad, and 
taught her to sew, knit, and even cook a little. 
She nursed her attentively when sick, hu- 
moured most of her childish whims when they 
did not interfere with her own comfort too 
much, and left her free to spend most of her 
time pretty much as she chose after her light 
morning tasks were properly and neatly done. 

Darry gave his little sister lessons in read- 


THY KINGDOM COME. 


63 


ing, writing, and ciphering every evening after 
tea, but to the book man’s short visit she owed 
her first religious instruction of any sort. In 
the godless mining region Sunday-schools and 
churches were an unheard-of thing. 

To a thoughtful, imaginative child, often 
sick and lonely, it was no wonder that the 
idea of a beautiful, bright home, with no pain 
nor sickness nor sorrow, should have a great 
charm. Nor, considering the shortness of the 
colporteur’s visit, was it surprising that many 
of the spiritual truths taught should be mate- 
rialized by her crude, untaught notions. The 
figurative language of the book he had left 
behind had still more mystified her childish 
mind as to the real nature of the Christian’s 
pilgrimage and the far-away heavenly king- 
dom toward which it tended. 

Even the conversation with old Mrs. Pear- 
son had not quite cleared away the mists 
which veiled the spiritual import of the simple 
fundamental truths Joy had been taught. 
But in leading her into the very presence and 
to the direct teaching of an unseen Saviour, 
the old woman had done the wisest and best 
thing possible. Would that all could thus 
walk with Jesus in simple, childlike trust! 


64 


LITTLE JOY. 


Then would the power and reality of the spir- 
itual kingdom be more deeply felt. Heaven 
pictured by a vivid, childish imagination be- 
comes home, Jesus clung to by a child’s trust- 
ing hand an ever-present companion. Things 
hidden from the wise and prudent are often 
thus revealed unto babes. Verily, the sage 
must become as a little child before he can 
enter in. 

From this time a new interest had come 
into Joy’s life, brightening its shadows with 
rays from the Sun of righteousness, and 
gradually changing many of its aims and 
ways. The lame child felt no longer lonely 
or spiritless. A new energy pervaded all that 
she did. The little light began to shine, cast- 
ing a limited but very perceptible brightness 
all around. Even Lindy noticed the differ- 
ence in the tender, happy face, and the old 
discontented, dull expression so frequent, 
the old listlessness too, was gone. She grew 
thoughtful and ready about any little service 
she could render, and whatever she was doing 
went on briskly. 

Darry’s words had made a deep impression 
on Joy’s mind. She did not forget to claim 
the promised loan of their mother’s Bible, and 


THY KINGDOM COME. 


65 


searched it diligently to find out, not only 
about the Lord’s kingdom, but what was his 
will, — if there was anything such a child as 
herself could do to please him. 

During the next week it was her almost 
constant companion indoors and out on her 
favourite back step. Of course there was 
much she could not understand, yet by the 
help of the Spirit it became a lamp to her feet 
and a light along the heavenward path. The 
dead mother’s hand and Christian experience 
unconsciously aided her little daughter’s search. 
The old, well-worn Bible opened most natural- 
ly to her favourite passages, and many a word 
of command or comfort she had marked years 
before went straight home to the little reader’s 
heart. Joy soon learned to talk with Jesus as 
freely and trustingly as she would have done 
with her dear book man, and to fear to dis- 
please him as much as she did Darry. 

One day as she was reading the book sud- 
denly dropped in her lap, and she sat looking 
down at the open page with an intent, thought- 
ful gaze which attracted Lindy’s notice and 
made her ask, curiously, 

“What are you thinking of, child? Let 
me have a share, if you please. You look 
6 * E 


66 


LITTLE JOY. 


as bright and happy as if you had just heard 
a piece of good news.” 

Joy lifted her soft, shining eyes with a glad, 
exultant flash. 

“ Jesus has come, Lindy ! He makes it 
happy inside most of the time,” she said, 
softly. “ That’s what I was thinking about, 
Lindy : how wonderful it was he should be 
good enough to come and whisper happy 
thoughts to a poor little lame girl like me.” 

“You’re the queerest young one I ever 
knew in my life!” said Mrs. Bry, resuming 
her work with a dissatisfied expression on her 
pretty face. “It’s all nonsense. But if it 
makes you happier, it don’t hurt any one else, 
I suppose.” 

A little shade passed over Joy’s face, but 
she did not say anything. “Was the dear 
Saviour’s kingdom inside all nonsense ?” Oh 
no ! those who hear his voice have the witness 
in themselves. 

Some one who had noiselessly pushed the 
door open, and stood unseen on the threshold, 
so as to hear both question and answer, saw 
the pale cheek flush and the child’s troubled 
look. 

“Why, Darry, why are you here at this 


THY KINGDOM COME. 


67 


hour?” asked his wife, in a tone of great 
surprise. 

“ There was some trouble about rails, and 
the works stopped for to-day,” he answered, 
dryly. 

Then laying a hand tenderly on his little 
sister’s head, 

“Joy, I’m going up the river fishing. 
Would you like to go along ?” Her face an- 
swered for her. As she left the room to seek 
her hat, the young man turned again to his 
wife. 

“ Lindy,” he said, quietly, “ is it kind to try 
to rob that child of a faith and hope we might 
ourselves be thankful for in a dying hour ?” 

He did not speak unkindly, but there was 
a gravity in his manner that checked the light 
answer that rose to her lips. 

She met his grave, troubled eyes for a mo- 
ment in silence, then turned away with height- 
ened colour and a slight toss of her pretty 
head. 

Darry gave a low sigh, but went off to seek 
the boat without another word. 


CHAPTER Y. 

A FISHING EXPEDITION. 

“ The path may seem dark 
As he leads us along, 

But, following Jesus, 

We cannot go wrong.” 

HE day was still and fresh and sunny. 
The river looked lovely in the fair 
afternoon light ; a little breeze ruffled 
the clear water, which reflected with 
startling distinctness every snowy- 
white cloud in the deep blue sky. Under the 
vigorous strokes of Darry’s oars the boat 
swept swiftly and noiselessly toward the main 
river, leaving a long line of sunny ripples 
across the watery highway. 

Darry wore a preoccupied air, and seemed 
indisposed to converse. He looked very sober ; 
from time to time his brow contracted and 
his lips were firmly compressed, as if his 
thoughts were not agreeable. Joy sat facing 
68 



A FISHING EXPEDITION. 


69 


him ; her happy eyes danced all around from 
water to shore and sky, then back to her 
brother’s grave face. Boating was such a 
rare treat that she was quite content to lean 
back, enjoying the pleasant motion and lovely 
scenery in happy silence until Darry felt in- 
clined to chat with her. 

For a while the shore along which the boat 
glided was lined with tenement-houses and 
little yards no larger than their own; then 
followed a succession of blacksmith and car- 
riage shops, then a tavern and grocery store* 
But as the bank rose higher and the stream 
grew broader, a better style of dwellings be- 
came frequent, till, at length, as they shot 
out into the river proper, good-sized gardens 
with terraced divisions of vegetables, fruit, 
and flowers came in sight. The vegetables 
and orchards were generally below, while 
above grass, flowers and shade trees made 
the sloping terrace a perfect fairy scene to 
Joy’s admiring eyes. Rustic seats were scat- 
tered here and there under the trees, so as to 
command the river ; gayly-dressed ladies ad- 
ded brightness with their ribbons and muslin 
and silks; happy, noisy children made the 
air ring with their joyous voices ; the tap of 


70 


LITTLE JOY. 


the croquet mallet and the shouts of the suc- 
cessful players could be distinctly heard. 
What a pity that Darry was not in the hu- 
mour to enjoy it all as much as herself! 
y Between the city and the small hamlet on 
the opposite shore an old wooden bridge, 
quaint and dark with age, went trembling 
across from pier to pier. With its lichen- 
painted roof, so irregular and antique, it 
was a picturesque object for the sun to play 
upon. In the midst of the little village the 
square white tower of a country church rose 
above the surrounding trees. To Joy’s sur- 
prise, the course of the boat seemed directly 
toward that point. 

Darry ’s face did not invite question or re- 
mark, but surely in a moment more they 
would be grating on the pebbly beach. Al- 
ready they were in such shallow water that 
Joy could see the stones in the river’s bed, 
when two or three sudden quick pulls of 
Darry ’s strong arms turned the boat ; it shot 
into a deep secluded inlet whose entrance 
had quite escaped her notice. An expression 
of mingled wonder and delight sprang to the 
child’s lips : 

“ Oh how pretty !” 


A FISHING EXPEDITION. 71 

A pleased smile broke up the sober lines of 
Darry’s mouth. 

“ This is the fishing-place, little woman. 
Do you think you can wait patiently if the 
fish should not be in a hurry to be caught ?” 

“ It’s perfectly lovely,” said the child, clasp- 
ing her hands tightly together. “ It’s every 
bit as nice as Pilgrim's House Beautiful.” 

The young man pushed the boat under the 
shadow of the outer bank with one oar and 
fastened it in security amid the rank under- 
growth. Then gathering up his fishing-tackle, 
he baited two or three hooks and threw them 
out into the water. 

Joy watched his movements with great in- 
terest, but then came back to the scene before 
her with fresh exclamations of pleasure. 

Above, on the side where the boat was fast- 
ened, the bank rose high and rocky, crowned 
with trees whose thick, spreading branches 
overshadowed almost the entire little bay from 
the long rays of the western sun. But oppo- 
site there was a wide extent of lawns and 
meadows belonging to a gentleman’s country- 
seat. The grass ran down in a long, gentle 
slope to the very water’s edge, and the sun- 
beams were doing a beautifying work among 


72 


LITTLE JOY. 


the rare shrubs and evergreens scattered 
around. The grounds were laid out carefully 
and with great taste; gorgeous beds of ver- 
benas, geraniums, heliotropes, pansies, and 
other fall flowers were set in the lawn, and 
beyond a small settlement of glass-roofed hot 
and green-houses shone in the sun. 

In the midst of a noble group of gigantic 
elms which reared their stately heads far 
above stood a stone house of more than com- 
mon size and elegance. It had two large bay- 
windows on one side, while around the other 
three ran a broad vine-draped piazza. A tall 
stone wall and iron entrance gate shut in the 
place from the country road beyond. Behind 
the house was a slight rise of ground covered 
with rocks and trees ; the soft amber drapery 
of the elms, the scarlet flames of the sumach, 
the golden-plumed birches, the bronzed ash 
boughs, and the deep mingling of nearly every 
shade of crimson, maroon, and orange, made 
up one broad outspread of marvellous colour 
and beauty beneath the soft Indian summer 
haze which hung over the woody hillside like 
a thin, transfiguring veil. 

With the smell of flowers came also the 
sweet scent of hay from some stacks near the 



Hfttle Jlog 



“Oh, Darry, the kingdom’s to you toot” 


p. 73. 






A FISHING EXPEDITION. 


73 


barn. And as Joy looked two or three hand- 
some cows came slowly down a little path 
leading to the water to take a drink. The 
silence around was so absolute that even this 
slight rippling of the water was noticeable. 

Joy drew a long breath of deep content, and 
turning, met her brother’s eyes fixed upon her 
with an intent, thoughtful gaze. 

“ Are those restless little eyes satisfied for 
the present,” he asked, kindly, “so that you 
can let them rest long enough for a chat with 
me?” 

Joy nodded eagerly, and settled herself back 
in her corner with folded hands and demure 
face. 

“ What shall we talk about, Darry ?” 

“ Do you remember our talk on the bridge 
last week about the kingdom coming, and 
doing the Lord’s will on earth as well as in 
heaven ?” 

The child started up so quickly that the 
boat rocked unsteadily among the intervening 
branches. 

“ Oh, Darry, the kingdom’s coming to you 
too ! Is that what you wanted to tell me ? 
Has Jesus indeed heard me?” 

Her brother’s smile was very bright and 

7 


74 


LITTLE JOY. 


sweet, yet a little tinge of sadness mellowed 
the brightness. 

“Yes, Joy, Jesns has been whispering in 
my heart all this week, and now I hope the 
kingdom has begun to come. But the next 
step of the way is up a very rough, steep Hill 
Difficulty. I shall want all the strength and 
help I can get to face the lions that threaten 
the way." 

“ But, Darry, the lions were chained, you 
know,” said the girl, half bewildered, half 
catching his real meaning of the figurative 
language. 

“ True ! but it is hard to trust as we ought 
when others must suffer by our acts. I’m 
afraid it will take a long while yet to make 
me a veritable Mr. Greatheart, evea with 
such a little Hopeful to keep up my spirits.” 

“ Darry,” exclaimed his sister, suddenly, 
“ don’t you think we could talk more comfor’- 
ble if I were a tiny mite closer to you ?” 

“Come, then!” and the young man held 
out his hand with a smile. 

Joy carefully stepped across, and he lifted 
her on his knee. She nestled closely to him, 
putting one arm around his neck, and her soft 
little head rested against his shoulder. 


A FISHING EXPEDITION. 


75 


“ There, now, dear old boy ! begin at the 
very first, and tell me all about it.” 

“The very first !” said Darry, softly. “That 
was a long time ago, before you were born, 
when the dear mother was alive and used to 
talk and pray with me. Sometimes I wished 
to be a Christian pilgrim even then for her 
sake, but I kept putting it off from year to 
year until she died and you and I were left 
all alone in the world.” 

He paused, and stroked the child's face 
with his rough, toil-hardened hand ’very 
tenderly. 

“ Poor old fellow ! what did you do then ?” 
asked Joy, with a loving glance of sympathy 
at his grave, troubled face. 

“ Then I went to the mines. An agent of 
the company came to the village where we 
lived in search of men ; he promised steady 
work and good wages, and so I went. But 
before the first month was over I knew it had 
been a step in the wrong direction. There 
was no church nor Christian people there, and 
the wild, godless set of miners were not fitted 
to help a man on in the heavenward road. It 
troubled me very much for a while. I had 
promised mother on her dying bed to try to 


76 


LITTLE JOY. 


lead a Christian life and bring yon up as she 
would wish, but it seemed an impossibility 
out there.” 

“Why did you stay then, Darry?” asked 
Joy, in some surprise. 

“ I ought not to have stayed a single week. 
One who puts himself directly in the way of 
temptation cannot expect to be kept from 
evil. But the journey back was expensive, 
the pay at the mines higher than I could get 
elsewhere, and then, after a very short time, 
I became attached to Lindy, whose family and 
interests were all there. I felt it was wrong 
on your account as well as my own, yet I 
stayed on year after year, until gradually my 
conscience became less troublesome. I grew 
to like the life and the people, and to care less 
and less about the truths my mother had 
taught me.” 

“And then my book man came,” said Joy, 
in a> tone of great exultation. 

Darry’s face lighted up as with a pleasant 
thought. 

“Yes, your book man was a great help to 
me. But then, because I would not let the 
miners abuse him, they turned against me 
too. They made the place so hot for us that 


A FISHING EXPEDITION. 


77 


even Lindy was willing to change. I heard 
of this new railroad and came here, thinking 
I would be out of temptation's way, but the 
Lord saw fit it should be otherwise. Even 
here the cross must be taken up before I could 
become a pilgrim indeed.” 

Joy opened her eyes to their very widest 
extent : “ I don’t see how, Darry.” 

“ If one wishes to be the servant of the 
Lord Jesus, he must be willing to obey all the 
Bible commands. See here!” 

As he spoke he took out his mother’s Bible 
and put it open in the child’s hand. Joy 
read aloud, 

“ 1 Bemember the Sabbath day to keep it 
holy. Six days shalt thou labour and do all thy 
work : but the seventh day is the Sabbath of 
the LOBD thy God : in it thou shalt not do 
any work.’ ” 

The child looked very sober and puzzled. 

“ Does it mean that you cannot go to your 
railroad work on Sunday, Darry ?” 

“I think it does, little woman. It says 
just that.” 

11 Then why don’t you tell the boss so and 
ask him to let you off?” 

“ I have asked him,” replied Darry, sadly, 

_ 7 * 


78 


LITTLE JOY. 


“ and lie said I must conform to rules or lie 
should give my place to somebody else.” 

“But, Darry, why do they work at the 
railroad on Sunday ? Even at the mines they 
did not.” 

“ There’s a contract to finish it in so many 
weeks or else forfeit a large sum of money, 
and they are hurrying up in every possible 
way, for fear of coming short.” 

“ Couldn’t you get some other place, Darry, 
where you need not work Sundays ?” 

“ I’m afraid not at this season. There were 
four hundred hands thrown off at the shops 
last week, and it’s too late for gardening.” 

“Do you think Jesus would mind just for 
a little while, if you told him how bad things 
are ?” asked Joy, doubtfully. “You have not 
any money left, have you?” 

“ Only a few dollars. The moving and 
buying furniture took most of my savings.” 

“Well, then, you see, we couldn’t even buy 
bread this winter, perhaps; that would be 
dreadful. I guess Jesus wouldn’t mind if you 
kept on till the snow comes, and then you’ll 
have to stop, anyhow.” 

The young man smiled gravely and opened 
the Bible to another place. 


A FISHING EXPEDITION. 


79 


“ I’m afraid such halfway obedience would 
not be accepted. I have studied the subject a 
good deal, and have come to the conclusion 
that the Lord means we re to do what he says, 
no matter what turns up. See ! once when he 
lived on earth, he was very, very hungry, and 
the devil came to him and told him how to 
get some bread if he chose. But the Lord 
Christ knew it would not be a right way for 
him to take, and so he replied : 

“ 1 It is written, Man shall not live by 
bread alone, but by every word that proceed- 
ed out of the mouth of God.’ 

“ That means, I take it, that what God bids 
us we must do even if we are forced to go 
hungry.” 

The little girl gave a half-frightened, half- 
admiring glance at the steady, grave face. 

“ Even if we starve, Darry ?” 

“Ay, even if we starve.” 

But the cheerful voice trembled a little and 
the earnest, fine eyes grew very dark and 
troubled. 

“We shall not starve to-night, at least,” 
the brother exclaimed, in quite a different 
tone, as he drew in one of the lines with a fine 
fish attached to the hook. On examination 


80 


LITTLE JOY. 


both the other two were found equally well 
loaded, and Darry threw the fish into the 
bottom of the boat with a very satisfied coun- 
tenance. 

“ Now we’ll go home and get Lindy to cook 
them for our supper.” 

“ Darry, have you told Lindy yet ?” 

The cloud came back again in an instant. 

“ No, not yet.” 

“I’m afraid she’ll not like it,” said Joy, 
with a. wise little shake of the head. But she 
scrambled back to her seat without any more 
questions or remarks. 

Two or three rapid strokes of the oars sent 
the boat swiftly along through the water and 
out into the open river again. 

The sun now was just kissing the hill- tops. 
The brightness of the western sky cast a 
dazzling glimmer over the fields stretching 
away on either shore, over the smooth expanse 
of water, and the distant city toward which 
they were hastening. 

The sweet quietude of evening brooded over 
everything. Light, sound, and motion all 
seemed hushed to rest as they glided down 
with the tide. 

Little by little the sun sank out of sight, 


A FISHING EXPEDITION. 


81 


till its last glittering edge had quite vanished. 
The sky was almost cloudless, but a region of 
golden glory hung over the hill, marking the 
road by which he had disappeared. The eyes 
of both were fixed upon the spot in silent 
admiration for some moments. 

“ Ah !” said Darry, drawing a long breath, 
“if only we once reach the golden city in 
safety, it will not matter much what road the 
Lord has seen fit to choose for us.” 

The child answered only with an intelligent, 
sympathizing smile. 

Darry took up the oars with fresh good- 
will. The boat sped swiftly homeward, while 
the western glow faded away and the sober 
tints of twilight gradually settled down over 
sky, shore, and river. 

Just as they reached the foot of their own 
back yard, the first evening star came twink- 
ling out overhead. 

“See, Darry!” exclaimed Joy, pointing up 
to it. “When God takes away the sun, he 
sends the stars, so that it may not be quite 
dark even at night. I guess, even if you do 
lose your place, he’ll send us some bread some- 
how. My book man told me that he had often 
sent him things when he wanted them most.” 

F 


82 


LITTLE JOY. 


“Ay, ay, little sister! we'll do what is 
right, and trust him for the daily bread.” 

There was a more hopeful accent in the 
voice, as if the little star-sermon had had its 
effect. Stooping down, he lifted Joy in his 
strong arms and bore her on to where the 
home light was gleaming from the back 
window. 

Joy thought the fish that night were the 
best she had ever tasted, and consoled herself 
with the idea that, even if the bread and but- 
ter quite gave out, fish were plenty and cost 
nothing but the trouble of going after them. 
“ And that’s just no trouble at all,” was her 
mental conclusion. 


CHAPTER VI. 

HILL DIFFICULTY. 


“One smile alone can gladden 
The pilgrim’s uphill lot; 

His life is hid with Jesus, 

And Jesus changeth not.” 

ND now came dark days to the house 
by the river. The Saturday following 
the talk recorded in the last chapter, 
Darry refused to work any longer on 
Sundays, and was discharged on the 
spot. The month’s rent had been paid in ad- 
vance, but after laying in a small supply of 
fuel and provisions, only a few dollars of the 
week’s wages were left, work was scarce, and 
the long winter close at hand. The future 
looked threatening. 

Mrs. Bry was very angry at her husband 
for throwing up his situation without any 
hope of another. She put down his sudden 
religious scruple to Joy’s influence, and treated 



84 


LITTLE JOY. 


her as an intruder and mischief-maker. Her 
manner to Darry grew also cold and distant. 

Joy felt the change deeply. To be held at 
arm’s length, her presence almost ignored, all 
her offers to take the baby or help along in 
the housework refused, and to be answered 
only by cold, angry* looks when she made a 
remark or asked a question, was a great trial 
to the sensitive child. 

She made no complaint, but clung closer 
than ever to Darry when he was in the house, 
trying by gentle words and loving caresses to 
soften the effect of Lindy’s unkind manner 
and harsh reproaches. 

In spite of her opposition, the young man 
kept on steadily and quietly in what he 
thought the right path. He was graver than 
formerly, but his manner to his wife grew 
even more gentle and tender as their limited 
means began to tell upon the table and the 
household economies. Often it seemed to his 
little sister’s watchful eyes as if he stinted 
himself in the amount he ate, lest there should 
not be enough for them; certainly he took 
only the simplest and least attractive bits on 
his own plate. 

Every day he went out in search of work 


HILL DIFFICULTY. 


85 


directly after breakfast, often going far out 
among the farmers in the country in hopes of 
a stray job, and returning late at night tired 
and grave, but never impatient or complain- 
ing. Once or twice, when successful, he 
would come in with a pleased, hopeful 3mile 
on his weary face, and Jive the day’s earn- 
ings to Lindy with bright, cheering words 
that almost shamed her into responsive good- 
humour. But these pay-days were rare, and 
grew still more so as the harvest work came 
to a close. 

Nearer and nearer the gaunt wolves of 
hunger and cold came howling around the 
door. Often now there were only potatoes 
and bread in the house, and the question how 
to meet the next month’s rent was becoming 
daily more difficult to answer. Lindy grew 
very irritable and bitter, while the cloud on 
Darry’s face deepened and deepened. 

Little Joy watched and ministered to him 
with loving eyes and caresses, and bravely 
kept back any fretful word or look, although 
her delicate appetite was not tempted by the 
humble fare, and she often went to bed faint 
and hungry from want of proper food. 

But her brother’s heart grew daily sadder 
8 


86 


LITTLE JOY. 


as he noted how pale and thin the little cheeks 
became, and how the tiny hands seemed 
slowly to waste away. It was no wonder his 
face was worn and haggard, or that his cour- 
age almost failed. Evening after evening he 
returned weary and discouraged from a long 
day’s search, to meet unkind remarks and a 
scanty supper of dry bread and potatoes. 
His words became fewer and fewer, and his 
eyes had a troubled, sorrowful look which 
made his little sister’s tender heart ache. 
Did God really require such very hard things ? 
Perhaps, after all, Darry had made a great 
mistake, and Lindy was right. 

Once she said something of the kind to 
Darry. He smiled sadly and showed her 
what God said himself in reply : 

“ What thing soever I command you, observe 
to do it : thou shalt not add thereto, nor di- 
minish from it.” 

u I have no choice, little woman, unless I 
am willing to give all up and go back to where 
I stood before.” 

“ Oh no, Darry ; that would be dreadful. I 
guess it cannot last much longer now, for 
God says, ‘Ask, and ye shall receive,’ and I 
keep asking every night that he’ll please send 


HILL DIFFICULTY. 87 

us some money till you can get another place, 
’cause we need it so bad.” 

“ That’s right, Joy; keep on praying, and 
ask that I may never be left to give up, for 
my strength to hold out seems almost gone 
sometimes when I see you all suffering for 
food I cannot get.” 

As this struggle continued, however, there 
seemed to be one thing from which he gained 
comfort and renewed hope, — his mother’s Bible. 
He got in the habit of going out with it to 
Joy’s old seat on the back doorstep directly 
after tea and turning the leaves over and over, 
looking out its precious promises and words 
of cheer to the tempted and sorrowing. What 
Christ and the apostles and martyrs who fol- 
lowed in his footsteps had borne and suffered 
seemed to brace him anew for the hard conflict 
through which he was now passing. The 
sweet assurances of Jesus’s tender sympathy 
and care for his people helped him to endure 
patiently and without complaint. Often his 
cheek flushed at some bitter word from his 
wife, but he bit his lip to keep back the angry 
retort, and tried to banish even the frown 
from his brow, as he remembered the example 
of the meek One who when he was reviled 


88 


LITTLE JOY. 


reviled not again, but met injustice with calm, 
pitying gentleness. And the love of that un- 
changed Friend became more and more pre- 
cious, and the undisturbed rest and peace of 
heaven all the brighter in contrast. 

Joy generally followed him to the back 
door, and curling down at his side, would 
watch his face with looks of the greatest ten- 
derness, and even reverence. It seemed to 
her to grow stronger and more noble every 
time. 

One evening, after coming home more dis- 
couraged than ever before from an unusually 
long and tiresome tramp up the river to find 
the last dollar gone and Lindy’s temper almost 
unbearable, the shadow was so very deep 
and dark that Joy’s faith quite gave way. 

“ There’s no use holding out any longer, 
Darry,” she said, following him as he sat down 
to read. “ We shall all starve to death before 
the Lord sends us anything.” 

The young man turned over leaf after leaf 
for a few moments in silence. Then he stop- 
ped suddenly, and a brighter look came into 
his face as he read aloud : 

“ This G-od is our God for ever and ever : 
he will be our guide even unto death.” 


HILL DIFFICULTY. 


89 


“ Little woman, even death cannot hurt us 
if he guide us there. ‘Though he slay me, 
yet will I trust him.’ Cheer up, Joy ! Its 
always darkest just before day. See ! here is 
another word of comfort for you : 

“ • The angel of the Loed encampeth round 
about them that fear him, and delivereth them. 
Oh taste and see that the Loed is good : blessed 
is the man that trusteth in him. Oh fear the 
Loed, ye his saints : for there is no want to 
them that fear him. The young lions do lack 
and suffer hunger : but they that seek the 
Loed shall not want any good thing/ And 
again : ‘ 0 Loed of Hosts, blessed is the man 
that trusteth in thee/ 

“ Depend upon it, the angel is near, though 
we cannot see him just yet, and the deliver- 
ance will come in the Lord's good time/' 

The voice had the old cheery sound, only 
deeper and more tender. 

Joy looked up in his face with a questioning 
glance. 

“Darry,” she said, in a tone of surprise, 
“you seem kind of different somehow to- 
night — not as if you were a bit afraid or 
anxious any more. What makes you ?” 

“ I feel differently ; I came in very much 


90 


LITTLE JOY. 


worried and down-hearted, and I cannot help 
feeling a little sorry at the thought of selling 
any of the bits of furniture Lindy is so proud 
of, and I do not see what else is to be done. 
But a word here and there in this book of 
mother s has been like a drop of comfort from 
her own lips, — not at all as if she were away 
off in heaven, but close beside me, and I on a 
stool at her feet with my head on her knee, as 
it used to be in my childish troubles. She 
always went to the Bible then for her words, 
and to-night her voice comes back : ‘Wait on 
the Lord, my son ; be of good courage, and he 
shall strengthen thy heart. Wait, I say, on 
the Lord.' ” 

Joy crawled closer and put her hand up to 
his face. She fancied there was something 
suspiciously like a tear on his cheek. 

Darry took possession of the little hand and 
went on : 

“ I’ve put the matter into the Lord’s hands 
now, and mean to trust him fully to do just as 
he sees best with us all. I’ll wait patiently 
on the Lord and be of good courage, and you 
must try too.” 

The child kissed him, and went up to her 
room comforted a little. 


HILL DIFFICULTY. 


91 


Her cot-bed was so placed that she could 
look out the curtainless back window. As 
she lay there wide awake, thinking busily, 
hundreds of pitying eyes seemed to gaze down 
on the pale, weary little face lifted so wistfully 
to the starlit city above. 

“Dear good Jesus, please do send some 
money soon, and please let the kingdom keep 
coming in my heart and Darry’s, and send the 
angel-man with help before my courage is all 
gone, ’cause it’s so hard to wait when Lindy’s 
cross and we’ve nothing scarcely to eat. 

“ There ! I guess he’ll help us pretty soon 
now, ’cause it says in the Bible , 1 Ask, and you 
shall receive.’ ” 

A feeling of peace and restful trust crept 
over her. She lay still with folded hands and 
thoughtful gaze, until, overcome by weariness, 
she at length fell fast asleep. 

There was something in Darry’s manner at 
breakfast the next morning which puzzled his 
little sister to understand. It was not down- 
cast or anxious, as it had been for some time 
past, but neither was it his former cheery, 
hopeful way, which had so often encouraged 
the child. His face was composed and 
sober, and there was a firm set to the lips 


92 


LITTLE JOY. 


and a sad look about the eyes that troubled 
her. 

She wanted to ask him about it, but, as she 
did not wish to do so before Lindy, was 
obliged to wait till the meal was over. She 
watched then for her chance, and found it 
almost immediately. Darry went into the 
back yard to split some wood for kindling, 
and she followed him : 

“ What is it, Darry ?” 

He turned with a little start, and looked 
down on her with the sad, determined expres- 
sion still resting on his face : 

“ What is what ?” 

“ I mean, what is troubling you ?” 

“How do you know anything is, child?” 
he said, going on with his work. 

“ From your face. Is it anything very bad, 
Darry ?” 

“Ho,” he said, quietly. “ It’s nothing 
wrong, only a little hard to do. But it’s the 
only way. I’ll tell you when I come back ;” 
and he walked away and went out of the front 
door. In less than an hour, however, he re- 
turned, and came into the room where his 
wife and sister were both sitting, one occu- 
pied with Pilgrim’s Progress, the other staring 


HILL DIFFICULTY. 


93 


listlessly out the window with a hopeless, sul- 
len look on her fresh, rosy face. 

“ There, Lindy ! cheer up!” he said, in a 
would-be gay voice, throwing some bank bills 
into her lap. “ I’ve paid the next month’s 
rent, and that will keep us in food and fuel 
for two or three weeks at least.” 

His wife took up tke bills with a quick flush 
of satisfaction, but exclaimed in surprise : 

“Where on earth did you get this, Darry?” 
His face clouded, but he answered after a mo- 
ment’s hesitation, with a little embarrassment 
in his manner: 

“It’s all right, dear girl. I’ve sold my 
watch.” 

“ Your mother’s watch, that you valued so 
highly ! Oh, Darry, I’m so sorry !” and the 
young woman laid her hand on his arm with 
a look of self-reproach and sympathy. 

“I value my wife’s comfort and peace of 
mind much more,” said the young man, his 
fine face lighting up with pleasure as he 
stooped and gave her a kiss of reconciliation. 

Joy stole quietly out of the room, and sit- 
ting down on the doorstep, covered her face 
with her hands and burst into a passion of 
tears. 


94 


LITTLE JOY. 


“ There ! mother’s watch, that Darry had 
often declared no money could induce him to 
part with. No wonder,” she thought, “he 
looked so grave and sad at the breakfast- 
table!” 

Darry found her there presently, and sit- 
ting down beside her, lifted the bowed form, 
still shaking with sobs, t^his knee, and rest- 
ing her head against his shoulder, tried to 
soothe her : 

“ Hush, hush, little woman ! it is not worth 
all these tears,” but his voice was somewhat 
husky. 

“ Oh, Darry, how could you ?” exclaimed 
the child, lifting her streaming eyes reproach- 
fully to his. But when she saw that they were 
not quite clear, she put her cheek caressingly 
against her brother’s with a gesture of affec- 
tionate sympathy. 

“ My poor dear boy, I’m so sorry for you !” 
In spite of his pain at parting with the cher- 
ished token of his mother’s love, the young 
man could not keep from a smile at the mat- 
ronly tone and manner. 

“ There was nothing else to be done. Now 
dry these tears and don’t worry about it any 
more. Thank God, Lindy’s all right again, 


HILL DIFFICULTY. 95 

and that's worth a dozen watches. It almost 
broke my heart to go against her so." 

“ Do you think it was the angel put it in 
your mind to sell it, Darry ?” asked Joy, with 
a very sober face. 

“ Perhaps so. But you must jump down 
now, and let me go out again in search of 
work. I’ve heard of a small job in the brick- 
yard which I think will give me something to 
do for the rest of this week.” 

Joy watched him pass up the street quite 
out of sight, and then concluded she'd go and 
pay her friend the blacksmith a short visit to 
divert her thoughts. Perhaps he would know 
about some place for her brother. 

The fair-haired child, with her intent look 
and little crutch, standing beside the bright 
forge fire watching the little sparks as they 
flew up like fireflies in the black clouds of 
smoke; the brawny-armed smith, with his 
sooty face bent over the glowing iron; the 
dusky interior of the little shed, with its odd 
variety of implements, — all made a quaint 
Flemish picture framed in by the broad door- 
way. 

So thought the two ladies who drew up in 
front to have a loose horseshoe righted — a 


96 


LITTLE JOY. 


pale, delicate-looking girl not much older than 
Joy lying back in the low basket carriage, and 
an older, sweet-faced lady dressed in deep 
mourning who was holding in with firm, 
steady hand a pair of frisky, long-tailed 
Shetland ponies. 

A hollow cough from the girl struck pain- 
fully on Joy's ear. She turned her head 
quickly to see whence it came, then, as she 
saw the lady beckon, touched her friend's 
arm. 

“Mrs. Eoberts and her daughter!” he ex- 
claimed, throwing down his hammer and hast- 
ening to the door to see what was wanted. 

Joy followed, and watched the process of 
re-shoeing with great interest. Some words 
from the older lady caught her attention, and 
she raised her eyes eagerly to the speaker's 
face, opening her mouth as if to speak. 

Apparently, however, her courage failed, 
and the carriage drove off before she had 
time to regain it. The words were : 

“Yes, our coachman is unable to leave his 
room, and we are obliged ;to drive ourselves. 
I fear it will prove a tedious affair; these 
broken arms do not knit in a hurry generally. 
We are looking out for some honest, capable 


HILL DIFFICULTY. 


97 


man to leave in charge of the place when we 
go to New York for the winter. Do you hap- 
pen to know of one you could recommend, 
Mr. Carr?” 

The blacksmith scratched his head and 
looked thoughtful : 

“ I cannot just think of one now, ma'am. 
There’s plenty out of work that would jump 
at having the place, but then it isn’t every 
one who’s to be trusted.” 

“And that’s especially important, as we 
wish to leave next week, and there will be no 
one to see that he does his work properly.” 

“Just so, ma’am,” said the man, shaking 
his head with a wise look. “It is not one 
in a thousand that can be trusted without 
watching.” 

“Well, good-morning, Mr. Carr. If you 
should hear of a good man for the place dur- 
ing the next day or two, I’ll be much obliged 
if you will send me word. Mr. Roberts has 
already been obliged to leave, and we are 
anxious to follow as soon as possible.” 

“Oh, Mr. Carr!” exclaimed Joy, eagerly, 
as he came back to where she was standing ; 
“ don’t you think Darry would suit the lady?” 

“To be sure, child; it would be just the 
9 G 


98 


LITTLE JOY. 


best berth in the world for him. Good wages 
and kind, generous people as ever I wish to 
see. Civil-spoken, too, to everybody. What 
a stupid fellow I was not to think of your 
brother wanting work !” 

11 It isn’t too late yet, is it ?” inquired the 
little girl, anxiously. “ Darry could go to them 
this evening after he comes home.” 

“ Yes, he’d best try, by all means. They 
live in that grand place on the other side of 
the river. He’ll know, for we’ve been out in 
my boat fishing near there.” 

“ Oh yes, I’ve seen it,” said Joy, eagerly. 

“ It’s a lovely place. Darry took me there 
the last time you lent him the boat.” 

“ Ay, ay ! It’s not a place to go begging, . 
even for a day. Such a chance does not grow 
on huckleberry bushes. Whatever made me 
do such a stupid thing ?” 

The child cast an anxious glance after 
the carriage fast disappearing in the distance. 
What if, after all, they should get some one 
before Darry could be told ? It would be a 
great disappointment. 

“ I wonder if there’s nothing I can do ?” she 
murmured, in a low, thoughtful voice. “ Per- 
haps if I went right off and told them about 


HILL DIFFICULTY. 


99 


Darry, they would wait till they saw him, and 
not speak to any one else. 

“ Is it very far by the road to their place, 
Mr. Carr ?” she asked, after a little pause. 

“ Well, a good bit. You go up the street 
to the old bridge, and that’s a full mile across, 
and then it must be nearly a mile and a half 
or two miles more to their place.” 

“ It didn’t seem so far the night Darry and 
I went,” said Joy, in a disappointed tone. 

“No, because you went by water straight 
across. The road winds round and round, 
you see, and that makes it a sight farther.” 

Joy thought and thought, and then walked 
slowly off toward her own home. She found 
her sister-in-law clearing up the room with a 
pleasanter face than she had worn for some 
time. 

“ Lindy, I’m going to take a long walk into 
the country. Would you please just to give 
me two cents to pay the toll going and coming 
across the old bridge ?” 

The little upturned face had such a timid, 
wistful look on it that the young woman, in 
her present mood, could not refuse. 

“Well, child, two cents isn’t much, to be 
sure. Only take care not to get lost, and 


100 


LITTLE JOY. 


don’t go too far. Darry will not be back to 
dinner, so I’m going to make griddle cakes 
for supper instead. You’d best take a piece 
of bread along for lunch.” 

The little girl gladly obeyed this suggestion, 
and then with a little fear and trembling 
started off for the old bridge. 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 

u Our Lord is good ; in every place 

His love is known, his help is found ; 

His mighty arm and tender grace 

Bring good from ills that hem us round.” 


HE broad avenue leading to the bridge 
was lined with pretty white cottages 
standing back in green little yards and 
quaint Dutch houses with high pointed 
roofs. Bright-coloured maple leaves 
were scattered all along the stone walk, and 
happy-faced children chased each other up and 
down, or busied themselves in the piles collected 
for burning. Joy kept steadily on till she 
came to the entrance of the old bridge. 

The man who kept the toll came out to take 
her penny, and then the gate swung slowly 
back, and her crutch struck the wooden floor 
of the bridge with a muffled sound. A dim 
9* 101 



102 


LITTLE JOY. 


twilight reigned here, very different from the 
bright sunlight without; tiny windows high 
up in the side from time to time cast a few 
stray beams across the floor and revealed the 
rafters of the three-sided roof ; far in the dis- 
tance was the opening at the other end, grad- 
ually growing larger and larger as she went 
on. Occasionally a wagon passed on the other 
side of the dividing railing, going back to the 
city she had left ; -otherwise, a profound silence 
reigned. The mile seemed a long one to the 
child, and she was relieved when the dark 
passage at length came to an end and she 
once more stepped out into the open sunshine. 
She found herself on a well-trodden country 
road, no house nor wagon in sight. The broad 
river looked as cool and smooth as ever, but 
the city on the opposite shore seemed very far 
away. For the next mile the road ran along 
the bank of the river,- and the soft pit-a-pat of 
Joys crutch fell fast and steadily, then the 
main road turned off toward the village, and 
a pathway rising gradually higher and higher 
led up to the stone house among the trees 
overhanging the river. 

The child did not stop to notice what a 
very pretty view this footpath commanded as 


THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 103 

she climbed slowly up the winding ascent ; she 
was thinking very hard what she should say 
to the lady when she reached the house. Her 
heart began to beat quickly, but there was no 
doubt in her mind as to going on. She never 
repented she had started, and would have 
faced still greater difficulties to secure Darry 
the place. When she reached the handsome 
entrance gate, she sat down on the grass un- 
der an elm tree to recover breath and com- 
pose a little speech suitable to the importance 
of the occasion. 

“ I’ll tell her he’s a real good kind brother, 
’cause then she’ll know he will be a good kind 
man to the horses, and that he would not 
touch a cent that did not belong to him, not 
to save his life, and that he don’t need watch- 
ing about his work, ’cause he wants to please 
God, and he knows God’s looking all the time. 
And I’ll be sure to remember to say 1 Please ’ 
real often, and 1 Yes, ma’am,’ and ‘No, ma’am/ 
just as Darry says is proper.” 

Still she waited thoughtfully, then lifting 
her face to the sky, whispered softly : 

“Dear Jesus, please make the lady give 
Darry this place where he will not have to 
work on Sunday.” 


104 


LITTLE JOY. 


A doubtful look passed swiftly over tbe 
child's face. How did she know Darry 
could keep Sunday any better here than be- 
fore? That must be one of the very first 
questions she asked. 

She approached the gate and looked in. 
How nice and smooth the grass in front of 
the house looked ! And what a grand, beau- 
tiful place it was to live in ! But with a sud- 
den start she drew back. In front, between 
the two bay-windows, was a handsome stone 
porch ; on either side, stretched out on stone 
pedestals, lay an enormous lion, just like the 
pictured ones in Darry 's Pilgrim's Progress. 
How the child’s heart leaped to her throat ! 
Surely she would never venture into grounds 
thus guarded. 

But there was no 11 give up " in the little 
lame girl when she had once made up her 
mind. She comforted herself with the re- 
membrance that the lions in Christian’s case 
were found to be chained. Pushing the gate 
slowly back on its hinges, she boldly entered 
and drew near the house, keeping, however, a 
watchful eye on the terrible beasts. 

The next moment she uttered a little cry of 
mingled joy and wonder. The lions were in- 


THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 105 

deed chained ; they were only stone imitations 
placed there as ornaments to the porch. 

“What a silly little girl I am!” said the 
child, examining them closely. “I might 
have known people would not keep lions so 
near the house if I had only stopped to 
think.” 

The front door stood open, and Joy could 
look right through the wide marble-paved 
hall to another door opening on the opposite 
piazza, and the rocks and bushes and trees of 
the hillside behind the house were plainly vis- 
ible. 

A grave, gray-haired black man with 
wrinkled face answered her ring and asked 
what she wanted. 

“ To see Mrs. Roberts,” replied Joy, boldly. 
She was ushered into a large square room 
papered with light green paper and having a 
white matting on the floor. A quantity of 
comfortable chintz-covered furniture was scat- 
tered around, and there were books, engrav- 
ings, stands of flowers and ferns, hanging- 
baskets of ivy, lovely marble statuettes, and a 
great many other pretty things Joy had never 
even dreamed of, everywhere. An English 
lark hung in a cage in the large end bay- win- 


106 


LITTLE JOY. 


dow, and there were two long French windows 
on the side. These stood slightly ajar; be- 
yond the piazza on which they opened lay the 
terraced garden Joy had admired from the 
river the evening Darry took her fishing. 

A very beautiful expanse of water, wood- 
land, meadows, and distant hills was seen 
spread out picture-like through these glass 
doors, the descent of the flower-terrace from 
the edge of the little lawn in front of the piazza 
being very rapid, and the rows of Norway 
spruces on either side the garden serving as a 
frame to shut it in. On a lounge drawn up in 
front of one of these doors, so as to command 
this view, lay the young girl Joy had seen in 
the basket carriage. 

The older lady sat sewing near ; the child 
thought her face without the bonnet very sad 
as well as sweet. She looked up as the door 
opened with a pleasant smile. 

“Why, it's the little girl we saw at the 
blacksmith’s shop !” was her surprised excla- 
mation. “ My poor child, have you walked 
all the way from the city ? How tired your 
little feet must be!” 

“ Please, ma’am, I don’t mind it,” said Joy, 
with a little curtsey. 


THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 


107 


“ And what can I do for yon, little one, now 
that you are here? Did yon just come for 
the pleasure of the walk, or to see the place 
or me ?” 

“ Please, ma'am — ” began Joy. 

But then she stopped short and forgot every 
word of the carefully-prepared speech. Her 
courage, which had been strung up to its 
highest pitch thus far, suddenly began ebbing 
fast, and it was only after some coaxing and 
encouragement on the part of both mother and 
daughter that she told her errand. 

“Please, ma'am, you said you wanted a 
man, and Mr. Carr thought Darry would do.” 

“ And who is Darry, dear ?" asked the lady, 
kindly. 

“ Please, ma’am, Darry 's my brother, and 
he's just as lovely and good as he can be. 
But he's out of work, and he wants a place 
dreadful bad.” 

“How does it happen he's out of work? 
Is he one of the hands they've lately thrown 
off at the locomotive works?” 

“ Ho, ma’am, he was working on the new 
railroad, and they discharged him 'cause he 
wouldn't do as they wanted.” 

“ Then I’m afraid he will hardly suit me,” 


108 


LITTLE JOY. 


said tlie lady, gravely. “ I always expect my 
people to do just as I want.” 

“Would he have to work on Sunday?” 
asked Joy, with a disappointed look. 

“No, certainly not, except to see that the 
cattle had their usual supply of food and 
water.” 

“ Then I guess he'd suit,” exclaimed Joy, 
in a glad little voice. “ Please, ma’am, he’s 
just as honest as can be, and he’ll do anything 
in the world you bid him if the Bible does 
not say he must not.” 

Mother and daughter exchanged glances. 

“Come here, little one,” said the lady, 
stretching out her hand and drawing Joy to a 
low seat beside her. “ Tell me all about it. 
I should not wonder, either, if Darry just suit- 
ed me, after all.” 

Joy told the tale of her brother’s decision 
and what it had cost him with a touching 
pathos and innocent childish simplicity that at 
once convinced her hearers of its truth. 

“ Oh, mamma, do take him ! I am sure he 
is the very man we want,” exclaimed the 
young girl, eagerly, as the lady seemed to 
hesitate. 

“ Does Darry know anything about horses 


THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 109 

or gardening?” Mrs. Roberts inquired, 
thoughtfully. 

“ He does about gardening, I guess,” said 
the child, in a confident tone. “ 1 don’t know 
about the horses, ma’am, but he could learn 
soon. Darry’s real smart; everybody says 
so.” 

“It’s evident his little sister thinks so,” 
said the lady, with a pleased smile at the 
child’s earnest face. 

“The horses would not matter much this 
winter, mamma,” suggested the young girl. 
“You know I always like you to drive me 
best, and we shall leave for New York so soon 
now.” 

“Well, you can ask Darry to come and see 
me about it early to-morrow morning,” said 
Mrs. Roberts, bending a sad, fond look on her 
daughter’s sweet, eager face. “ I think if we 
are pleased with each other after a little talk 
together, I must give him a trial, for your 
sake, Ida.” 

“ Oh, thank you, mamma !” said the young 
girl, sinking back among her pillows and giv- 
ing one of those little hacking coughs that 
had first attracted Joy’s attention at the door 
of the blacksmith’s shop. 

10 


110 


LITTLE JOY. 


A look of anguish passed over the lady’s 
face, and she listened to Joy’s earnest expres- 
sions of gratitude as one whose thoughts were 
very far away. 

Yet she kindly insisted on the child’s hav- 
ing a substantial lunch of bread and meat 
before she left, and sent her off with a servant 
to another room for that purpose. 

When Joy was brought back to say “ Good- 
bye,” Ida Boberts held out her hand and drew 
her up to the side of the couch on which she 
was still lying. 

“ Little Joy,” she said, kindly, “will you 
ask your brother to bring you to see me again 
before I leave ?” 

“ Oh yes, ma’am,” said the child, with a 
look of pleasure. “ I’d like to come ever so 
much, and please, ma’am, do you know about 
the kingdom coming ?” she added, a little ab- 
ruptly. 

The young girl smiled brightly : 

“ I hope I do. Why, little Joy ?” 

“ Because I thought if you didn’t, perhaps 
you’d like to hear,” said Joy, gravely. 

“So I should. Tell me what you know, 
that we may see if you and I think alike 
about this kingdom.” 


THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 


Ill 


11 Please, ma’am, the kingdom is Jesus’s 
great, beautiful city ’way up in the sky. No- 
body who has not wings can get there, ’cause 
it’s so high up, and there’s no ladder long 
enough to reach. Besides, folks must be all 
white and pure and good inside first, and then 
the angel with wings will be sent after them 
when the time comes. He’ll take them right 
up in his strong arms and hold them tight, 
so they cannot fall, till they reach the golden 
gate. Then he’ll knock until the angel who 
keeps the gate-key speaks and asks, ‘ Who’s 
there ?’ and he’ll say , 1 One of Jesus’s little pil- 
grims who wants to get in.’ Then the door 
will open wide, ’cause the hymn says so, and 
the angel will fly in and put the person he 
carries right into Jesus’s arms, and they’ll 
each have a place of their own there that Je- 
sus has got ready beforehand, and there will 
be no more sin nor sighing nor sorrow any 
more. Is that the way you know, please ?” 

“ Something very much the same, little 
Joy. Did Darry tell you all this ?” 

“ Oh no, not Darcy. My book man told me 
some, and Mrs. Pearson, and I read some out 
' of our mother’s Bible, and some I found out 
for myself, 'cause the Lord Jesus is bringing 


112 


LITTLE JOY. 


the kingdom down a little more every day 
inside of me. Please, ma’am, did you know 
the kingdom must come inside first ?” 

The young girl gave a silent assent. 

“ I didn’t till Mrs. Pearson told me. It did 
not seem as if such a great, beautiful thing 
could come inside a poor little lame girl. But 
I kept asking and listening for Jesus, and 
when he came, then the kingdom came too. 
Darry says being like Jesus and being with 
Jesus is the best part of all.” 

Joy turned to repeat her thanks and say 
good-bye to the mother, who had been a silent 
listener to the conversation between the child 
and her daughter. 

“ Please, ma’am, Darry will be sure to come 
right after breakfast, and I’m so much obliged 
to you and Miss Ida.” 

To Joy’s surprise, the lady lifted her to her 
knee and bestowed several silent caresses upon 
her, mingled with tears. 

“How are you going to get home again, 
little Joy ? It’s too far for you to walk,” she 
said as soon as she could speak. 

“Oh, I don’t mind,” said Joy, contentedly. 
“ I can rest after I get home.” 

“ Three miles here and three miles back are 


THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 113 

too far for such little feet. I’ll send the stable- 
boy across the river in a boat with you.” 

So Joy sped homeward across the same 
watery highway she had once before passed 
with Darry, only the boy was not so skilful 
a rower, and the boat went by jerks and 
starts. Joy was too exultant to care for that ; 
the unsteady strokes of the oars kept time to 
a most bounding little spirit. She was landed 
at their own back door, and found Darry 
busily at work on the wood-pile, the brick- 
yard job having proved a failure. 

The faces gathered around the tea-table to 
enjoy Lindy’s griddle-cakes were very bright 
and hopeful. Lindy chatted as pleasantly and 
contentedly as before Darry had thrown up 
his former place, being especially gracious and 
kind to her little sister-in-law. Her husband 
was gravely cheerful and Joy rosy with satis- 
faction. 

Two hearts at least gratefully echoed the 
psalmist’s words when, after the meal was 
ended, Darry brought out his mother’s Bible 
and for the first time established a family altar 
in his little household : 

“ 1 Oh give thanks unto the Lord, for he is 
geod : for his mercy endureth for ever. Let 
10 * H 


114 


LITTLE JOY. 


the redeemed of the Lord say so, whom he 
hath redeemed from the hand of the enemy. 
And gathered them out of the lands, from the 
east and from the west, from the north and from 
the south. They wandered in the wilderness, 
in a solitary way ; they found no city to dwell 
in. Hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted in 
them. Then they cried unto the Lord in 
their trouble, and he delivered them out of 
their distresses. And he led them forth by the 
right way, that they might go to a city of hab- 
itation. Oh that men would praise the Lord 
for his goodness, and for his wonderful works 
to the children of men !’ ” 


CHAPTER VIII. 

DARBY’S SERMON, AND HOW THE ANGEL CAME. 

“For in the Christian heart is found 
One little spot of sacred ground; 

The waves may beat, the winds increase, 

They cannot reach that spot of peace.” 

ARRY’S interview with Mrs. Roberts 
was most satisfactory to both parties. 
The duties of his new position were 
not arduous, and the wages offered 
liberal. It was agreed the young man 
should sleep at home, and that on Sunday 
mornings, after feeding the cattle, he should 
prepare their other meals in such a way that 
the stable-boy could do whatever else might 
be necessary; the latter was also to sleep in 
•the house, as company to the old housekeeper, 
who remained in charge during the winter. 
This left Darry free to go to church with his 
family and attend to any morning or evening 
matters in which Lindy might need his help at 

115 



116 


LITTLE JOY. 


home. Once more, therefore, sunshine reigned 
in the little house by the river, and the king- 
dom in Joy's heart grew brighter and 
brighter. 

Ida Eoberts sent for her daily during the 
week she and her mother remained at the 
Lawn. She delighted to have the happy child 
by the side of her couch, drawing out her first 
original notions of Bible truth, or teaching 
her new hymns and tunes to sing for her. 

Before she left she confided to Joy as a 
great secret the fact that she was daily ex- 
pecting the angel messenger to take her to 
the Zion-land, and that this was the reason 
of the cloud on her mother's face. 

Joy looked surprised, pleased, then thought- 
ful. 

“Why does that make Mrs. Eoberts sorry?" 
she asked, in a tone of wonder. “ You’ll see 
the dear Jesus there, and have such a happy 
time.” 

“But mamma will be left all alone," said 
Ida, sadly. “ She’ll have no daughter to love 
and take care of, and most of her old friends 
have already gone.” 

“ Why, she can keep on loving you just the 
same,” protested the child, “and when you 


darry’s sermon. 


117 


have wings of your own, you might come 
down once in a while and see her for a little.” 

But the young girl shook her head with a 
smile : 

“ No, little Joy ; when I have once reached 
the beautiful Zion-land I shall not be likely to 
come back to earth again. Mamma will come 
to me some day ; we must wait till then to see 
each other.” 

“Well,” said the lame girl, in a consoling 
tone, “you’ll both have Jesus, at any rate.” 

The dark, beautiful eyes shone. 

“Jesus never leaves or forsakes,” mur- 
mured the lovely lips, softly. But a violent 
fit of coughing prevented any more conver- 
sation at that time. Before Joy again visited 
the Lawn both ladies had gone to their city 
home. 

One Saturday night, about ten days after, 
Joy was awakened by a violent storm. Tor- 
rents of rain poured down on the roof and 
the beams creaked heavily. The little girl 
lay awake some time listening to the blasts 
as they moaned and shrieked dismally around 
the eaves, then drawing the coverlid up over 
her head, went fast asleep again. All night 
long the storm raged furiously, blending with 


118 


LITTLE JOY. 


the rushing sound of the river, as hour by 
hour it rose higher and higher, so that by the 
next morning it had quite overflowed its usual 
bounds. Soon it was approaching unpleas- 
antly near the back doors of many of the 
houses in that lower part of the city where 
the Brys lived. 

Still the rain continued to pour down with 
unabating fury and the angry waters came 
nearer and nearer, until about noon it became 
necessary to move all the furniture from the 
lower rooms up to the attic in which Joy slept. 

It was hard work, and occupied the 
greater part of the afternoon. When at 
length it was safely accomplished, the little 
garret presented a scene of confusion that 
baffled all attempts after order. The room 
was so filled with the stove, table, chairs, bed, 
washstand, bureau, and other articles packed 
carelessly in baskets or piled on top of each 
other among the boxes and barrels already 
crowded in the farther corner, that there was 
very little walking space left. Cold meals of 
bread and meat were all that were possible, as 
the stove could not be used for cooking. These 
were eaten without dishes, sitting around on 
whatever piece of furniture was handiest. 


d aery's sermon. 


119 


After an early tea, Lindy said she was too 
tired and sleepy to sit np any longer, and she 
retired with the baby to the little dark closet 
under the eaves where Joy's cot-bed had been 
put to make room for the other larger articles. 

Darry sat down on a box near the low win- 
dow, and taking his little sister on his lap, 
looked thoughtfully out. The rushing stream, 
as it swept madly on in its wild career, bore 
along with the swift current all sorts of 
odd things it had picked up in its course, — 
roots and tree branches, boards, barrels, ar- 
ticles of furniture ; even one or two outhouses 
and bridges went dancing past the foot of 
their little yard on a race to the main river. 

The moon was just struggling through the 
dense embankment of clouds overhead, shed- 
ding a faint, weird glimmer over the scene. 

“ Darry, wasn't it dreadful going to feed 
the cattle this morning?'' asked Joy as she 
gazed wonderingly out. 

“ Pretty bad, little woman. Not such hard 
work, however, as it will be to-morrow, prob- 
ably, for the waters were only just beginning 
to rise at that time.” 

“ Couldn't you go by the bridge?” asked the 
child, a troubled look coming across her face. 


120 


LITTLE JOY. 


“I'm afraid not. The water’s up to the 
floor already, and some persons think the 
bridge itself will go next.” 

“ Oh, I hope not ! Do you think it is like- 
ly, Darry?” 

“ It looks shaky enough, but the old fellow 
is plucky, and has stood many a hard tug in 
years gone by, so perhaps he will weather 
this too.” 

“ Do they often have such storms ?” 

“ Every spring nearly the whole flats are 
covered. At this season it is very unusual, 
but the frequent and heavy rains we’ve had 
during this month accounts for the water ris- 
ing so rapidly now. The brooks and smaller 
streams were all swollen before this storm 
began.” 

“ Darry,” said Joy, after pondering a while, 
“ was it Sunday work moving up here ?” 

“ I think it was, Joy. The flood put it on 
us to do ; certainly it was not our choice.” 

“ Are you sorry we could not go to church 
to-day, Darry ? I am ; the singing is so nice, 
and the preaching too, when I can understand 
it.” 

“We can have church here now, if you 
wish, all by ourselves.” 


darry’s sermon. 


121 


“ Oh, how, Darry ?” and the child started 
up. Her brother smiled at her eagerness, and 
brought the little head back to its resting- 
place against his breast. 

“I might read some Bible verses in the 
moonlight, and perhaps even preach you a lit- 
tle sermon that you could understand, then 
you could sing some hymns and we could pray 
together. Don’t you think that would be a 
sort of a church ?” 

“ I thought a church was a building with a 
pulpit and ever so many people,” said Joy, 
doubtfully. 

“ Oh no ; the true church is not the building, 
but the people gathered together to worship. 
Jesus says where two or three are gathered 
in his name he is in the midst. You and I 
are two, Joy, and Jesus will hold church with 
us in this room if we ask him to join us.” 

“ But did you ever hear of such a church, 
Darry, in a garret ?” 

11 The apostles first met in an upper room, 
and in times of persecution, when men were 
put to death for worshipping God according 
to their own consciences — how sad to think 
that such times there were ! — Christians used 
to collect in caves and mountain glens — any 
11 


122 


LITTLE JOY. 


place, no matter how humble, which was com- 
paratively safe from discovery/' 

“Well, then, you commence, Darry;” and 
Joy settled down in his arms with a little sigh 
of content. 

By the dim rays coming in through the lit- 
tle window, Darry managed to read the four- 
teenth chapter of John’s gospel, then drawing 
the child in his arms quite close, he spoke a 
few earnest words of prayer in her very ear. 

Joy kept as still as a little mouse till he had 
finished and raised his head. 

“ Now it is time for a hymn, I think.” 

“What shall I sing, Darry?” 

“ That last new hymn Miss Ida taught you 
is very pretty, Joy.” 

So the little girl folded her hands, and look- 
ing gravely up in her brother’s face, sang clear 
and sweet the following words : 

“ Far away from the earth, far beyond the blue sky, 

Is the home where all Christians shall go by and by ; 
How bright are its glories ! how sweet is its rest! 

What a fountain of joy springeth up in each breast! 
The light of God’s countenance there is displayed, 

But since Jesus is with them, they’ll not be afraid. 

“ Up, up into heaven they fly without fear, 

And the sweet angel voices sound near and more near ; 


darby’s sermon. 


123 


And the walls of the city shine brighter than gold, 
And the twelve pearly gates in the distance unfold. 
No one there can enter whose debt is unpaid, 

But if Jesus is with them, they’ll not be afraid. 

“ I’m a poor little child, very sinful and weak ; 

No good thing can I do, no good word can I speak ; 
Oh how can I ever that bright heaven win ? 

And who will speak for me that I may go in ? 

On One that is mighty my help is all laid — 

If Jesus is with me, I’ll not be afraid. 

“Since my little life is all held in his hand, 

And should be daily just what he shall command, 
I’ll trust him to give me whatever I need, 

And beg him to be my dear Saviour indeed. 

Come want or come sorrow, come sunshine or shade, 
If Jesus is with me, I’ll not be afraid.” 

“And when he permits me to suffer and die, 

Still quiet and glad in his hand will I lie. 

He’s washed out my sins and he’s paid all my debt, 
I’ve asked him to keep me, and he’ll not forget. 

He through the dark river a safe way has made : 

If Jesus stays with me, I’ll not be afraid.” 


A deep stillness reigned for a while in the 
moonlit room, then, in tones that trembled 
a little, Darry said, “ Thank you, dear little 
helper.” 

“ Miss Ida said I was always to think of 
her when I say that,” remarked his sister, 


124 


LITTLE JOY. 


gravely. “ Do you think the angel has come 
for her yet ?” 

“ He is coming quickly, from what the old 
housekeeper tells me. She fails every day.” 

“ Then she’ll begin watching for me, ’cause 
she promised to. Do you wish the angel 
would come for us pretty soon, Darry ?” 

The young man hesitated and looked grave : 
“ It would be hard to leave Lindy and the 
baby and you to fight your way alone, but 

I think if Jesus was with me, I could say 

I I will fear no evil.’ Even here at times he 
seems so very near and sweet that all else is 
as nothing in comparison- to his presence. 
Yes, I trust, when the messenger comes, I 
shall be glad and ready to go.” 

“ 1 hope he’ll let us go together,” said Joy, 
a little anxiously. “ 1 should be afraid to stay 
here alone.” 

“ Not if Jesus was close beside you. His 
arm is a better support than mine can ever 
be, dearly as I love you.” 

“ Haven’t you forgot about the sermon, 
Darry?” asked Joy, after a long silence in 
which the young man's thoughts had gone off 
on a road of their own, leaving hers to travel 
on by themselves. 


DARRYS SERMON. 


125 


He came instantly out of his abstraction, 
and with a grave little smile gave out as his 
text : 

“ 1 Fear not, little flock, for it is your Fa- 
ther's good pleasure to give you the kingdom.’ 
That little flock means you and me, I think. 
We are little in numbers; we have little 
strength to reach the kingdom by ourselves ; 
we are little in all that the world calls great — ? 
little in money, in fine clothes, and earthly 
friends. And the kingdom spoken of is such 
a great, glorious, grand place that it would 
be no wonder if such little people should be 
discouraged at the thought of getting in there. 
But Jesus says, Don’t be afraid, little flock. 
The great King of the land is your Father. 
He loves you, poor and weak and humble as 
you are. You have nothing to buy the king- 
dom with, but it is your Father's good plea- 
sure to give it to you, without money and 
without price. Don’t be afraid, just come 
and take it as a free gift. The good Father 
does not want pay ; it is his pleasure that you 
should share this happy, lovely home with 
him. And it is his good pleasure because he 
does it for Jesus’s sake. All the wandering 
earth children have forfeited all right to 


126 


LITTLE JOY. 


heaven ; they are impure, sinful, disobedient. 
But Jesus has come and been punished for our 
guilt ; in our place he has stood. His blood 
cleanseth from all sin those who come to the 
fountain thus opened. His presence in the 
heart is purifying and healing. So Jesus says, 
* Fear not, little flock ; come to me to be made 
ready ; ask in my name for admittance, and 
then it is the Fathers good pleasure to give 
you the kingdom.’ And this giving means 
the heart-kingdom as well as a place in the 
Zion-land, I think, Joy. 

“ There is where the gift must begin, if at 
all ; not what we have, like meat and drink, 
but righteousness and joy and peace through 
the holy indwelling presence, makes the king- 
dom. Just so fast as these come within us 
N all that is sinful and weak and low vanishes, 
and our hearts grow pure and strong. All 
our striving and efforts here are useless ex- 
cept so far as Jesus works in us both to will 
and do of his good pleasure. Therefore his 
word is, 1 Abide in me and I in you ; so shall 
ye bear much fruit.’ Even in the kingdom 
of glory we shall be satisfied, because we 
awake in his likeness and see Jesus as he is 
in all his loveliness. Jesus will be the king- 


darry ’s sermon. 


127 


dom there, just as Jesus must be the kingdom 
here, little woman. Eye hath not seen, ear 
hath not heard, yet, but the Spirit does at 
times reveal such glimpses within that we 
long to fly away to that fulness of joy which 
can only be found in his visible presence.” 

The young man paused, and became again 
lost in thought. The little audience looked 
up with glistening eyes. 

“ Darry,” she said, earnestly, “ that is the 
beautifullest sermon I ever did hear, and I 
could understand almost every word.” 

“ I’m so glad ! You and I must take great 
care to keep close to Jesus, and trust him to 
keep close to us.” 

The child leaned her head against his breast 
and looked thoughtfully out of the window at 
the gloomy water. Suddenly a bright, rising 
flame shot up across the sombre sky. 

“ Darry, see! what can that be over by 
Mrs. Eoberts’s place ?” 

Her brother cast a hasty glance in the di- 
rection the little finger pointed, then arose 
quickly. 

“ I’m afraid the barn is on fire !” he ex- 
claimed, in a troubled voice : “it’s just in that 
direction. Sam is careless about going 


128 


LITTLE JOY. 


there with a light, though I've warned him 
it is not safe." 

He looked anxiously out at the rushing 
stream, and then down at the little child at 
his side. 

“ There’s no help, little woman. I must go 
across and see what can be done.” 

“Oh, Darry, please stay home. You will 
never be able to cross in a boat to-night and 
Joy clung to his knees in an agony of fear. 

“ It's my duty to try, at any rate, Joy. Mrs. 
Roberts has left me in charge of the place. 
There’s no one else to do anything but the 
old woman and an ignorant boy.” 

When her brother spoke in that tone, Joy 
knew that nothing she could say would move 
him. She released her hold, and sank down on 
the box behind with a very white, scared face. 

Darry crossed the room, and rousing his 
wife, explained hastily what he was going to 
do. 

The little listener heard the earnest words 
of expostulation and Darry ’s low, affectionate 
reply, then he came again into the outer room, 
drew on his overcoat, and took down his cap. 
Joy waited breathlessly. Would he go without 
another word ? 


DARRY S SERMON. 


129 


But no ; he drew near even in the act of ty- 
ing on the cap securely, and said in an encour- 
aging tone, 

“ Fear not for me. I shall be just as much 
in the Lord's care on the river as you will 
here. Wait on him ; be of good courage and 
keep praying. Jesus is a very present help 
in every time of need.” 

“ I’ll try, Darry,” said the child, wistfully, 
as she clung to him, shaking from head to foot, 
“ but somehow it seems as if you were going 
away for ever.” 

“Not for ever, little woman; even at the 
longest we shall meet in the Zion-land.” 

He stooped down and took the trembling 
little figure in his arms. 

“ I will put you in Jesus’s care ; that is the 
safest place for such a faint-hearted little pil- 
grim. He will hold you closer and more ten- 
derly than even I can.” 

And the next instant Joy's trembling ceased 
as the low, trustful words, so clear and dis- 
tinct, seemed to lift her right to Jesus’s arms.- 
Then Darry took the pale, white face between 
his hands and gave it a parting kiss. 

Joy followed his rapid strides to the window 
as fast as her lame little feet could carry her. 
i 


130 


LITTLE JOY. 


She saw him unafsten the boat-chain he had 
attached there on his return early in the 
morning, swing himself down by his arms, and 
push off. The swift current swept down the 
tiny bark; one moment it tossed upon the 
fierce, raging stream, the next it had passed 
from sight. 

The flames shot up higher and higher as 
the next half hour rolled on, then gradually 
died down, leaving only an indistinct, uncer- 
tain red light and a volume of dark smoke, 
like some beacon-fire on a distant hill. 

The little watcher at the window waited 
anxiously at her post until long after the mid- 
night hour had sounded its twelve muffled 
strokes; then, worn out with the days toils 
and excitement, she fell fast asleep on the 
floor. 

On the river the little boat struggled man- 
fully onward toward its desired haven; the 
strong arms of the rower battled successfully 
against the raging fury of the waves until a 
mass of floating timber came in violent con- 
tact with the boat, and all was over. 

From the little church in the garret Darry 
went up to the general assembly of the Church 
in the Father’s house. 


DARRYS SERMON. 


131 


And the little watcher at the window slept 
on all unconscious of her loss. The angel had 
come for Darry, and she was left behind. 

Fear not, little child! you are not alone. 
By your side walks an unseen Guardian 
strong and tender. He will guide your little 
feet safely over the lonely, rough bits of trav- 
elling before you until you also are landed in 
the far-off Zion-land ! 

“Watchman, what of the night?” 

The night cometh, but also the morning. 


CHAPTER IX. 


CASTLE DOUBTING AND GIANT DESPAIR. 

“ Only the Lord can hear, 

Only the Lord can see, 

The struggle within, how dark and drear, 
Though quiet the outside be.” 

morning came. The sun shone as 
r ' l(lfE brightly into the little garret window 
> as if the work of destruction had not 



swept away all the heart sunshine 


from its inmates. Joy awoke and 
gazed out in silent wonder. So far as the eye 
could reach stretched the wild waste of heav- 
ing waves, blotting out the broad, fertile 
landscape which lay beneath. Here and there 
above the turbid lake-like expanse a tall tree- 
top or the roof of a farmhouse was visible, 
growing as it were from the water. 

Nor was the front view more encouraging. 
Boats were moving to and fro along the street, 


CASTLE DOUBTING AND GIANT DESPAIR. 133 

carrying provisions to those in want or fish- 
ing up the pails, chairs, and broken furniture 
of all sorts which were dancing up and down in 
every direction. As the day wore on the waters 
subsided as rapidly as they had risen, and 
by the afternoon the street was again visible, 
and the families began to clear out the damp, 
dirty rooms below and replace their furniture. 

Nothing was heard from Darry until about 
sunset, when their neighbour the blacksmith 
came to break the sad news that his body had 
been picked up some distance down the river 
quite lifeless. 

The shock was so great that his wife fainted 
away, and poor little Joy felt as if the very 
foundations of everything had given away be- 
neath her little pilgrim feet. Her grief, though 
silent, was deep and enduring. Day by day 
the sad little face grew worn and thin and 
the halting step more and more weary, while 
the voice sounded full of unshed tears. 

The funeral was over ; Lindy went listlessly 
about her usual work, and the busy flow of life 
swept past the front door as before the flood 
came. But oh how still and desolate the 
house seemed to the lonely little child on the 
back doorstep ! 

12 


134 


LITTLE JOY. 


She had brought out the skirt of an old 
dress to rip apart for dyeing, but the work 
dropped unnoticed to the ground and the 
tears streamed silently down the wan, white 
cheeks. The mystery of death was pressing 
heavily upon her childish heart. 

How strangely peaceful and at rest the pale, 
still face in the coffin had looked ! Yet the 
touch of those icy, colourless lips had chilled 
and awed her. Was that inanimate form her 
dear, cherished brother ? She had called his 
name in an agony of grief, but the heavy eye- 
lids had not even trembled in response to the 
wild appeal. When before had Darry ever 
been deaf to his little sister’s call ? He could 
no longer feel nor hear. Something had gone 
out of him, leaving a Darry that was not the 
real Darry. What? — and where? Was he 
in the Zion-land, or underneath the damp sod 
in that distant cemetery where she had seen 
the coffin deposited ? 

She had overheard some of the women who 
came and went during those two day3 the 
body lay in the house talk of purgatory and 
the money which must be paid to get him out. 
Lindy believed in such a place, she knew, and 
had wept bitterly at her inability to pay 


CASTLE DOUBTING AND GIANT DESPAIR. 135 

for masses. But how could one Darry be in 
that dreadful place and another shut up in the 
coffin ? The child shuddered ; she could hear 
again the harsh, grating sound as the lid was 
screwed down which shut in the pale, cold 
face from her sight. 

Picking up her work, she went back into the 
room where her sister-in-law sat reading a 
letter just received from her brother in the 
West. It offered her a home for herself and 
child, but said nothing about the little lame 
girl. What was to be done with the homeless, 
friendless child? 

After a short time of troubled meditation, 
she said in a low voice, 

“ Joy, I’ve a letter here from brother Tom. 
He wants me to sell out and take the baby to 
live with him. I don't see what better I can 
do.” 

“Not and leave me behind, Lindy,” ex- 
claimed the child, in sudden terror. 

“He has a large family, Joy, and he says 
nothing about bringing you,” answered the 
young woman, in a worried tone, avoiding the 
eye of her little questioner. 

“ Lindy,” said the child, slowly, after a mo- 
ment of anxious deliberation, looking earn- 


136 


LITTLE JOY. 


estly into the woman’s face, “ do you mean 
I’m to stay here in the house alone ?” 

“ No,” replied Lindy, reluctantly ; “ I sup- 
pose that would be impossible.” 

“ But what then ?” asked Joy, anxiously. 

11 There’s only one thing I can think of,” 
said the woman, in a low, almost inaudible 
voice, while a deep flush crossed her averted 
face, — “ that is the county-house.” 

She saw the child’s sudden start, but not 
how pale and frightened the little face grew 
at the very idea. Joy did not protest nor 
give way to the sudden burst of passionate 
grief she had expected. She stood perfectly 
still beside the window, as if turned to stone, 
looking at Lindy incredulously out of her 
large, reproachful eyes. 

“ You see, Joy,” she went on, after a short, 
embarrassed silence, “ it would be impossible 
for me to support the baby and you and my- 
self, and my brother cannot be expected to 
offer a home to a person who has no claim. 
I’m sure I wish I had one of my own to share 
with you.” 

The child made no answer. Turning away 
her head, she looked across the river and 
broad, rich-coloured flat country to the far- 


















Htttlr Hod 



I mean, how soon must I go?” she asked, in low but 

steady tones. p. 137. 


CASTLE DOUBTING AND GIANT DESPAIR. 137 

away hills beyond. But it was with dim, 
unseeing gaze. During that short interval 
of painful silence she seemed to have grown 
in an instant old and womanly. Of course 
she had no claim on Lindy’s relations, — on no- 
body, in fact, in all the wide world. Hence- 
forth she must take up the burden and strug- 
gle of life alone. Oh, Darry, Darry ! how 
little you thought the little sister you so 
fondly cherished would ever come to the 
poorhouse ! 

But the tightly-clasped hands and fixed, 
grave set of the little lips were the only out- 
ward signs of the tumult of grief and passion 
raging within the childish breast. The face 
she turned again toward her sister-in-law was 
pale and sober, indeed, and an old, wise look 
had come over the childish features, but the 
voice was unnaturally calm and clear : 

“When, Lindy?” 

“ When what, child ?” 

“ I mean, how soon must I go ?” she asked, 
in low but steady tones. 

The young woman hesitated. 

“ I suppose the sooner I start, the better,” 
she said, at length. “ By Monday or Tuesday 
next, perhaps.” 


138 


LITTLE JOY. 


And with, no more words on the subject, 
the preparations went briskly on from that 
moment. The furniture was sold to the ten- 
ants who were to take the house after they 
left. Lindy occupied herself in putting the 
clothing of all three in a good condition, and 
was as kind and affectionate as she knew how 
to be to the little child whose heart was so 
sorely wounded at her sudden desertion. But 
Joy shrank from her consoling words and 
evaded all caresses; even the baby-nephews 
clinging arms and kisses seemed to hurt more 
than heal. Her grave composure never gave 
way, however. To the very last she was help- 
ful and submissive, assisting so far as her 
feeble strength and lameness would allow, 
and uttering no word of complaint. But her 
manner was listless, almost lifeless, and the 
sober, grieved set of the lips never once broke 
up into even the shadow of a smile. 

Alas ! the poor little pilgrim had now fallen 
into the merciless hands of Giant Despair, and 
her way seemed leading on to the very dun- 
geons of Doubting Castle. And the keys 
which would have unlocked those iron gates 
were shut up in the neglected little Bible 
which rested unopened in the pocket of her 


CASTLE DOUBTING AND GIANT DESPAIK. 139 

dress, and which in her great trouble she 
scarcely thought of. 

Sadly, but without a tear, she stood in the 
d£pot and watched the long train sweep past, 
carrying away to the Far West the two re- 
maining members of the little family circle 
which Darry’s death had so suddenly broken 
up. Then she started for her future home 
in the. outskirts of the city. The necessary 
arrangements with the proper authorities had 
all been made and her clothing sent there the 
previous day, so that she was expected. 

It was still early in the forenoon ; the bus- 
iness street was thronged with crowds of 
clerks and shoppers hurrying to and fro, but 
Joy kept slowly on with sober, lagging steps 
till she reached the open square filled with 
grass and trees at the very head of the street. 
She rested her bundle on the fence, and stood 
still a few moments to rest. A large public 
building rose beyond, and on either side two 
branch roads led off toward the thinly-popu- 
lated outskirts. 

Joy took up her bundle again after a very 
short pause and went steadily along the right- 
hand road, past a row of small new houses 
and one or two old, tumbledown shanties ; then 


140 


LITTLE JOY. 


came a stretch of fields and pasture lands, and 
then the poorhouse. It was a square red 
brick building, standing quite back from the 
road in an open field. There were only two 
or three stray trees anywhere near, and the 
house had a bare, desolate look. 

The lame child looked wistfully at it with 
a sad sinking of heart. Must all the rest of 
her life be passed here, without a single human 
being to care for and love her? A great 
longing for just one comforting word or caress 
from some one came surging up with a force 
that almost seemed to choke her, but she did 
not give way to tears. With the same un- 
moved, dull face she approached the court, 
where several old persons and children were 
sunning themselves. 

“ It’s the new girl,” cried several of the 
children, pressihg around her. “ Mother Hig- 
gins said she was coming this morning.” 

A bold, black-eyed girl with ragged dress 
and bare feet came forward and demanded in 
a rude, insolent tone, 

“ What’s your name, young one ?” 

“ Joy Bry,” replied the little girl, in a voice 
which had a weary, hopeless intonation. 

tl Humph ! Joy-less would have suited you 


CASTLE DOUBTING AND GIANT DESPAIR. 141 

better ;” and sbe gave a short, sneering laugh. 
“ Where do you come from?” 

Joy hesitated, then answered slowly, “From 
Frog’s alley.” 

“You and the frogs might go very well to- 
gether,” was the scornful reply as she turned 
away and exchanged several not very compli- 
mentary remarks as to Joy’s looks and dress 
with one of her companions. 

The dull eyes had flashed at the insult, but 
the forlorn little figure stood patiently amidst 
the group of her tormentors with the same 
stolid, sullen look on her face, until a little 
blind boy about her own age came forward 
and kindly offered to take her to the mistress 
of the house. 

A thin, sharp-featured woman with harass- 
ed, careworn expression was superintending 
the preparations for dinner in the kitchen 
where the little guide led the new-comer. He 
went up to her as readily as if he had the full 
use of his eyes,' and pointing to Joy, who stood 
still on the threshold, said, 

“Mother Higgins, this is the little girl who 
was to come to-day. They were teasing her 
outside, so I brought her to you.” 

“All right, sonny; I’ll take care of her. 


142 


-jITTLE joy. 


Run back now and tell tbe men in the field 
dinner will be ready in no time, so theyi’d bet- 
ter hurry up.’ 7 

The voice and manner were quick and de- 
cided, but not unkind. Joy took a little heart 
and ventured to sit down on the edge of the 
nearest chair, for she had eaten little breakfast 
and felt faint and weary with all she had gone 
through that morning. 

“ Poor child ! it’s pretty hard parting with 
all your friends and coming among such a 
wild, lawless set as you’ll find here. But 
you’ll get used to it after a while and learn 
not to mind what they say or do. Just sit 
still and rest till dinner is ready. I dare say 
you’ll be glad of a bite by this time.” 

Even while she spoke the woman was bust- 
ling about, putting the, dishes on the table and 
giving an occasional stir to the great pot of 
meat and vegetables on the stove. 

The child would have liked to put away her 
bundle and smooth her hair before eating, but 
she did not venture to ask to do so. She sat 
with her hands folded idly in her lap, watch- 
ing her companion’s brisk, jerky movements, 
until the children and men came trooping 
noisily in, clamouring for something to eat. 


CASTLE DOUBTING AND GIANT DESPAIR. 143 

The mistress dished up the contents of the 
pot sh^had been stirring in large bowls, and 
distributed a huge slice of bread to each. She 
gave the lame girl a place between her own 
and the little blind boy, and saw that she was 
supplied among the first. Further than this 
she had no time nor thoughts to spare ; the 
demands on her were numerous and incessant. 

The hungry child dipped her bread in the 
savoury mess and ate a few mouthfuls, but 
the noise and confusion soon took away her 
appetite, and she placed the half-empty bowl 
on the table with a little sigh of mingled 
weariness and homesickness. 

Her little companion’s ears were open, 
though his eyes were shut. The next mo- 
ment he put down his bowl too, and holding 
out his hand, said ip. a low, sweet voice, 

“ Wouldn’t you like me to show you the 
room where you are to sleep ? You will be 
quite alone there now.” 

The child took up her crutch and gladly 
followed through the broad, uncarpeted hall, 
and up two flights of stairs to a long, narrow 
room under the roof. 

“ It’s pretty high up,” said the little blind 
boy, in a tone of apology, “ but it’s quiet. No 


144 


LITTLE JOY. 


one else sleeps here but old Granny Wicks, so 
I guess you’ll like it better than the big room 
down stairs where most of the girls sleep.” 

“ Yes, indeed,” exclaimed Joy, in a tone of 
relief. The very idea of occupying a room 
with all those bold, rude girls she had seen 
in the yard was frightful. 

“ And there’s a real pretty view from the 
back window, too,” continued the child, with 
a pleased look, as he led her to it and then 
threw open the wooden shutter which did 
double duty against heat and cold in the utter 
absence of any inner window-sash. 

Joy gave a quick exclamation of surprise 
and pleasure. 

Beyond the fields and city rose her dear 
old purple hills, as beautiful and hazy as ever. 
But the sight recalled so .many memories of 
Darry and the Bible readings on the hack- 
door step that the unnatural composure she 
had so far kept up gave way, and now came 
the rush of pent-up feelings. Dropping on her 
knees by the open window, she leaned her 
head on the ledge and gave way to a passion- 
ate flood of tears. Her little blind companion 
was much distressed, and after trying in vain 
to comfort her with words, sat down on the 


CASTLE DOUBTING AND GIANT DESPAIR. 145 

floor by her side, and putting bis arms around 
her, literally obeyed tbe Bible injunction by 
weeping with ber. 

To tbe lonely child yearning for some one 
to love ber sucb sympathy was tbe most 
soothing that could have been given. Soon 
ber sobs ceased ; lifting her bead, she bestowed 
a grateful kiss on ber little comforter. 

“Poor little Joy!” said be, pressing closer, 
as be found bis caresses were not rejected. 
“ Pm so sorry for you. I know just bow it 
feels, for mamma is dead too, and I am all 
alone in tbe world.” 

“Are you?” said Joy, in sad surprise. 
“Then let’s you and I agree to be brother 
and sister, and love each other just as much 
as if we were born so.” 

Tbe blind boy eagerly assented, and the 
bond of union was immediately cemented by 
a long conversation in which they related tbe 
experience of their past lives. Joy found to 
ber great delight that Josy too was praying 
for tbe kingdom. 

Before they went down again, tbe little 
Bible bad been opened and more than one 
favourite chapter read aloud. Joy’s heart 
grew calmer as tbe sweet keys of tbe prom- 
13 K 


146 


LITTLE JOY. 


ises unlocked the heavy gates of Doubting 
Castle and the once more recognized pres- 
ence of Jesus delivered her from the cruel 
grasp of Giant Despair. The sad face had 
even a little gleam of grave light on it as 
hand in hand the two children descended 
the stairs. 


CHAPTER X. 

A VISIT TO THE CITY OF THE HEAD. 

“Lo, I am with thee when the tomb 
Thy loved ones calls away, 

My voice shall cheer the valley’s gloom 
With thoughts of endless day.” 

S the first morning beams lighted np 
the garret chamber of the poorhonse 
the next day, Joy awoke to the pain- 
ful sense of the new life before her. 
For a moment the dull, heavy weight 
on her heart made her feel utterly desolate 
and alone, but the thought of her little blind 
friend threw a ray of comfort over the un- 
known future. If only she could feel sure 
that Darry had really been taken up to the 
Zion-land, as Joey seemed to think ! Perhaps 
after they left the grave an angel had been 
sent to remove the earth and open the coffin. 
The blind boy had told her that was what the 
Bible said about Jesuss grave;, when the 

147 1 



148 


LITTLE JOY. 


friends went there a few days after his death, 
they found the big stone rolled away and two 
angels sitting, one at the head and one at the 
feet, where the body had laid. 

Joy took her little Bible from under the 
pillow, where she had placed it for safe-keep- 
ing the previous evening, and turned over the 
pages trying to find the place. She could not 
come across that scene, just at first, but as she 
searched her attention was arrested by the ac- 
count of the raising of the widow of Nain’s 
son. 

“Ah!” thought Joy, with streaming eyes, 
“ if Jesus had only been at our house before 
they carried the coffin away, perhaps he would 
have touched Darry and made him alive again. 
Maybe he has been to the graveyard, or sent 
the angels to take away the earth and let 
Darry out. I mean to go and see this very 
moment.” 

The old woman who slept in the room with 
her was still slumbering soundly. Softly ris- 
ing, the child dressed and washed herself ; then 
using the little crutch with great care, so as 
not to awaken her sleeping companion, she 
noiselessly went out and down the stairs. 

There were voices talking in the kitchen 


A VISIT TO THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 149 


already. Joy stole past as quietly as she 
could, fearing lest she might be forbidden to 
go at such an early hour. Once out in the 
meadows in front, the little lame girl breathed 
more freely and quickened her steps. 

The dew still rested on everything. The 
city below was only just rousing to its usual 
noise and bustle. Workmen going to and fro 
with dinner-pails in their hands, milkmen in 
their wagons, and country dealers bringing in 
their fresh vegetables to market, were the only 
persons stirring. 

The cemetery lay in the outskirts of the 
city, not far from where the road turned off to 
the poorhouse. Joy knew the way well ; she 
had several times passed there on Sundays 
with her brother, the little free-seat church 
which they had lately attended being in the 
immediate vicinity. Her eyes filled as she 
recalled the last visit, when kind neighbours 
bore Darry’s body to its place in the great 
silent city of the dead. Lindy had walked 
beside her with the baby in her arms, weeping 
bitterly, and Joy’s own little heart had felt as 
if it must break. The heavy entrance gate 
swung slowly back at the little girl’s feeble 
push, and she once more found herself on tbs 

13 * 


150 


LITTLE JOY. 


gravelled avenue leading back into tbe inte- 
rior of tbe beautiful enclosure. 

Something in the mingled stillness and 
brightness soothed the child’s aching heart as 
if a soft hand had passed tenderly over her 
brow. All the din and turmoil of rattling 
wheels over stony pavements, all the shrill 
sounds of busy toiling city life, were shut out. 
At that early hour not even a workman’s voice 
was here to disturb the quiet slumbers of the 
silent inhabitants, only the sweet, sad note 
of the wood-pigeons cooing softly among the 
pines, or the far-away faint twitter of a belated 
bird who had not migrated with his wiser com- 
panions to more genial winter-quarters. 

The shady entrance-way skirted for some 
distance a deep, wide ravine hung with deli- 
cate ferns and wild vines. A clear stream ran 
through the ravine, sending off, farther on, 
numerous little rivulets, which wound in and 
out under the low bushes and over the sun- 
shiny lawns, singing soft, sweet lullabies as 
they passed the quiet groups of grassy mounds 
scattered along their way. 

Far as the eye could reach these green hill- 
sides rose and fell, while shady lanes, narrower 
avenues, and little footpaths trickling over the 


A VISIT TO THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 151 

grass branched off in all directions from the 
main central avenue. 

The sober little feet kept on, on, past hill- 
side vault and stately monument and family 
groups of white headstones surrounded by 
iron railing, green hedge, or simple stone 
coping^ on, on, by flower-strewn graves and 
under aromatic groves, until they came to a 
distant quarter appropriated exclusively to 
the use of the poorer classes of the commu- 
nity. There were comparatively few trees 
here, and still fewer marble slabs. Occasion- 
ally a wooden cross painted white, with black 
letters, or even a rough bit of board rudely 
carved, served to distinguish a friend’s rest- 
ing spot among the long irregular lines where 
young and old were all crowded together 
without reference to sex or family. 

A moment later the child was standing be- 
side the dark black mound beneath which she 
had seen Darry’s coffin let down. Alas ! the 
yet fresh-made grave was untouched by angel 
hands. No stone was rolled away from the 
door of that tomb. 

With a sudden burst of childish passion 
and grief, the little sister knelt down and 
pressed her face to the damp, bare earth. 


152 


LITTLE JOY. 


“ Oh, Dairy, Darry ! My poor dear boy !” 

She must have been there some time, for 
the first violence of the passionate storm had 
passed ; only the low sad wail of a child who 
has exhausted its strength, but not its grief, 
came forth from the prostrate form, when all 
at once a deep, grave voice close at her side 
startled the little girl : 

“ My poor little child, what is the matter ?” 

Joy’s sobs ceased, but she lay perfectly still, 
without answering a single word. She hoped 
the speaker would go away and leave her to 
herself if he found that she took no notice. 
But the next* moment two gentle strong 
hands lifted up the astonished child and bore 
her unresisting to a considerable distance. 
Here a rustic garden-chair stood under the 
shade of a large maple tree. 

“ What is the matter ?” repeated the gen- 
tleman, with a look of kind concern, as he 
sat down and took her on his knee. 

There was something in the grave tender- 
ness and compassion of the face bent down to 
hers that instantly won the little girl’s con- 
fidence. Children know very quickly who 
are their friends. 

“Oh, sir, they’ve put my brother Darry 


A VISIT TO THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 153 

down in the ground, where the angel cannot 
get to him.” 

The gentleman looked down at the dis- 
tressed little face, so pale and grief-stained, 
and the tears started right into his eyes. 

“No, little one, it is not your brother 
Darry that they put down there. It was 
only the empty house he used to live in.” 

Joy looked up wistfully : 

“But I saw them, sir. He was drowned 
in the river, and they put him in a wooden 
box and put the box in the ground. I saw 
them with my very own eyes.” 

“ Was it the eyesifchat saw them, little one ? 
or were those only the little windows through 
which the real Joy inside looked out on what 
was done to Darry ’s empty house?” 

“ Are there two Darry s ?” asked the child, 
looking puzzled. 

“Was the brother they put in the coffin, 
who could neither speak to you nor hear you 
when you spoke to him, the same Darry you 
knew before that time ?” 

The little lame girl gave him a quick, earn- 
est glance, and shook her head. 

He waited a moment, then went on : “My 
little girl, our bodies are only the earthly 


154 


LITTLE JOY. 


houses where we live while in this world. 
The eyes and ears and mouth and hands and 
feet are all parts of this house, but it is the 
soul inside that makes them active and useful. 
The soul is the person. When God calls that 
out, the body becomes helpless and dead, a 
mere empty shell which men lay away in some 
safe, quiet spot to rest till it shall again be 
needed.” 

“Then where is Darry?” asked Joy, 
eagerly — “ the real inside Darry, sir ?” 

A shadow swept over her companion's 
face. 

“ Little one,” he askedf gently, “ did Darry 
know and love the Lord Jesus ?” 

“Oh yes,” said she, with simple earnestness. 
The keen eyes watching her so gravely flashed 
with quick pleasure : 

“ Then Darry has gone away to live with 
Jesus in his bright, beautiful home above.” 

“ Then the angel did come for him !” ex- 
claimed Joy, in a tone of glad surprise. “ Please, 
sir, how do you know ?” 

He smiled a little, and putting his hand in 
his coat pocket, still keeping one arm tenderly 
around her, drew out a small pocket Psalms 
and Testament. 


A VISIT TO THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 155 

“ Look here, little one and lie showed Joy 
a verse : 

“ For we know that if our earthly house of 
this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a build- 
ing of God, an house not made with hands, 
eternal in the heavens.” 

“ What does that mean ?” said Joy, doubt- 
fully. 

“It means death, little one. When the 
body-house falls to pieces, then the real soul- 
person who lives in it has another room in the 
heavenly Father s house which shall last for 
ever if he is only one to whom Jesus has 
given the victory.” 

Joy studied the words again, and then look- 
ed up and nodded gravely : 

“ Then the angel just took the real Darry 
out of the body-house and up, up to the far- 
away Zion-land ? But I should think Darry 
would want his body-house even up there,” 
she added, knitting her brows and thinking 
very hard. 

“ He will have it some day, my child. The 
Bible has something to say about that too.” 

He turned over some leaves and gave her two 
or three different passages to read — passages 
which have consoled many mourning hearts : 


156 


LITTLE JOY. 


“ Jesus said unto Martha, Thy brother shall 
rise again. 

“ Martha said unto him, I know that he 
shall rise again in the resurrection at the last 
day. 

“ Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection 
and the life : he that believeth in me, though 
he were dead, yet shall he live : and whoso- 
ever liveth and believeth in me shall never 
die.” 

“ Now if Christ be preached that he rose 
from the dead, how say some among you that 
there is no resurrection of the dead ? But if 
there be no resurrection of the dead, then is 
Christ not risen. 

“ But now is Christ risen from the dead and 
become the first fruits of them that slept. 
For since by man came death, by man came 
also the resurrection of the dead. For as in 
Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be 
made alive.” 

“ Blessed be the Cod and Father of our 
Lord Jesus Christ, which, according to his 
abundant mercy, hath begotten us again unto 
a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus 
Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incor- 
ruptible and undefiled, and that fadeth not 


A VISIT TO THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 157 

away, reserved in heaven for you who are kept 
by the power of God, through faith unto sal- 
vation/’ 

“ And I saw the dead, both small and great, 
stand before God: and the sea gave up the 
dead which were in it, and death and hell de- 
livered up the dead which were in them.” 

“ After this I beheld, and lo, a great multi- 
tude which no man could number, of all na- 
tions and kindred and people and tongues, 
stood before the throne and before the Lamb, 
clothed with white robes and palms in their 
hands ; and cried with a loud voice, saying, 
Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the 
throne and unto the Lamb.” 

“ You see, little Joy, to those who trust Je- 
sus what men call death is but the gate of a 
fuller, higher life.” 

Joy looked down at the little Bible and then 
up into his face with a half smile, — a lighting 
up of the whole face so intelligent and glad 
that the gentleman felt she had caught the 
true meaning of the verses, and that it would 
brjng consolation. 

He waited a moment, for he saw her little 
heart was full, then he asked gently and kind- 
ly, “ My little child, will you trust yourself to 

14 


158 


LITTLE JOY. 


Jesus’s care, now that your brother is taken 
from you ?” 

The child hesitated and looked up wistfully 
with trembling lips : 

“ Please, sir, why could I not go too ? It’s 
so very, very lonely without Parry.” 

And hiding her face against the kind arm 
that held her, she burst into a fresh agony of 
tears and sobbed as if her little heart would 
break. This fit of weeping did her more good 
than the former one ; the sting of death had 
gone, it was the separation that grieved her 
now ; the first had exhausted both mind and 
body, this, on the contrary, relieved the ach- 
ing pain. 

The stranger held her closely, and was si- 
lent for a little, until the sobs grew less. 

“ Hush, my child,” he said, in a low, tender 
voice which somehow calmed her like a spell. 
“ Darry is with his Saviour now; he has ‘ seen 
the King in his beauty in the land which is 
very far off.’ All the rough, hard places and 
trials of life are past, and he is at rest where 
there is no more tears, nor sickness, nor pain. 
You would not wish him back again for more 
of these?” 

“No, oh no!” sobbed the child, “but it 


A VISIT TO THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 159 

seems so lonely and aching inside. No one 
cares for me now, like Darry.” 

“ Jesus cares, little child,” he said, in tones 
which were encouragement itself. “ He will 
never leave or forsake you, little child, and his 
presence can make sunshine in the most empty 
and gloomy heart. I would rather have his 
protecting arms around me than any others 
in the whole universe, and so will you, my lit- 
tle girl, when you have learned to know him 
better.” 

“ But he is not so real and near as Darry 
used to be,” said Joy, with an appealing look. 

“Ah, perhaps it was to let you find out 
what a mistake that is that he took away 
Darry. The Lord will be King in each heart, 
and sometimes he empties life of all else that 
we may learn to rest on him alone for comfort 
and joy, and the brightness Jesus will bring 
is something wonderful if only we are willing 
to let all else go and pray, ‘Thy kingdom 
come.’ ” 

The quiet tears were still rolling down Joy’s 
cheeks, and the swelling in her throat made 
speech impossible, but a little faint gleam of 
a smile lit up the pale face. Was this one 
way the kingdom was to come in the heart ? 


160 


LITTLE JOY. 


“My little girl,” said the gentleman, in 
that same quiet, soothing voice, “the Lord 
Jesus is standing knocking at the door of 
your heart. Lift up the gate and let that 
King of glory enter, then, never mind what 
gloom and storms may be without, all within 
will be bright and calm and peace. Will you 
take the Friend who sticketh closer than a 
brother to be your guide and portion ?” 

“Oh yes!” 

“ Then, shall we ask him now ?” asked he, 
gently. 

The child nodded gravely * kneeling down 
on the grass under the maple tree, the gen- 
tleman sent up a short, childlike petition on 
Joy’s behalf. 

When they rose up, he still held her hand 
and said, in a moved tone, 

“ Will you come now a little distance and 
see a place that is very precious to me?” 

Joy took up the little crutch and went with 
him across a broad piece of unoccupied 
ground, and up a gently ascending footpath 
under a pine grove, till they reached a slop- 
ing terrace overhanging the wild ravine near 
the entrance gate. 

Evergreens of great size and beauty were 


A VISIT TO THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 161 

skilfully grouped Ground, the grass was thick 
and carefully cut, otherwise Nature had been 
left to have pretty much her own way, and a 
very sweet, wild spot she had made just here. 

The gentleman crossed the grass and stopped 
by the side of two freshly-sodded mounds, 
one rather long and headed by a beautiful 
marble cross ; the other short, with only a 
tiny head slab. There was lettering carved 
on each. Joy let go the gentleman’s hand, 
and kneeling down by the side of the smaller 
grave, read the words on the little headstone 
first : 

“Jamie Gordon, aged four years and six 
months. Jesus said, Suffer little children to 
come unto me, and forbid them not, for of 
such is the kingdom of heaven.” 

On the cross was carved : 

“ In memory of Janet Gordon, aged twenty- 
seven years. 

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they 
shall see God.” 

The gentleman stood by until the child had 
finished reading and rose to her feet. Then 
he held out his hand and drew her to his side : 

“ My little girl, those are the graves of my 
wife and baby-boy. Ten days ago they were 

14 * l 


162 


LITTLE JOY. 


both alive, making my home bright and full 
of love. Now they have gone to Jesus, and 
I too am left to journey on through the rest 
of life alone.” 

Joy pressed the hand she held in silent 
sympathy, and raised a pair of soft, tear-filled 
eyes to the dark, moistened ones looking down 
on hers. 

“ My little child, I too know what it is to 
have an aching, lonely heart, and yet, during 
these ten sad days, Jesus has so come and filled 
it that I can now truly say, 

‘Alone I journey on my Lord to meet, 

My thoughts and meditations yet so sweet 
Of Him on whom I lean, my strength, my stay, 

I almost can forget the sorrows of the way.’ ” 

The quiet voice trembled a little, however, 
and there was a far-away, longing look in the 
grave eyes that showed the sorrows had reach- 
ed very deep in the strong, manly nature. 

“With joy and gladness they have been 
brought and entered into the king’s palace. 
We cannot help rejoicing for them, little one, 
and as for ourselves, let the prayer of our 
hearts be, 'that like as we do believe our 
Lord Jesus Christ to have ascended into the 
heavens, so we may also in heart and 


A. VISIT TO THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 163 

mind thither ascend, and with him continually 
dwelld ” 

“ It is not safe for either of us to remain 
here longer, my little girl,” he said, kindly, 
after a moments silence. “ We must both go 
home now. Where do you live?” 

A blush suffused the child’s pale cheeks as 
she answered low, 

“ At the poorhouse, sir.” 

And she looked up into his face with a little 
doubt. 

But he put his hand on her shoulder, and 
looking down with a grave, moved smile, said 
gently, 

“Well, little one, if only Jesus lives with 
you there, it may be a very happy home.” 

The child’s face brightened, and as she 
walked by his side to the entrance gate she 
told him of Darry’s death and the little blind 
boy who had promised to be her friend. 

At the gate they parted, but first Mr. Gor- 
don held Joy’s hand closely in his and asked 
gravely, 

“ Will you and little Joey eat Thanksgiving 
dinner with me to-morrow? We have much 
to give thanks for, and perhaps we can best do 
it together.” 


164 


LITTLE JOY. 


Joy's eyes sparkled. 

“Oh, thank you, sir!” she said, gratefully; 
“ I should like it so much.” 

Mr. Gordon wrote his address on a card and 
with a kind smile put it into her hand. 

“ Come early, little one, and if I am not at 
home, go in and wait.” 

And then Joy went home for her breakfast 
and dinner both in one, and told Joey all 
about what the gentleman had said, and of the 
kind invitation for the next day. 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS, 

11 Thus He who is himself the gift and giver, 

The future glory and the present smile, 

With the bright promise of the glad for ever,' 

Can light the shadows of the little while.” 

HE two children started a little before 
noon the next day for the bouse of 
Joy's stranger-friend. It was a bleak 
November day. Keen, searching 
blasts swept through the delicate net- 
work of branch and spray, sending down lit- 
tle twigs and battered shreds of dead foliage, 
or stirred the neatly-collected piles of dead 
leaves along the sidewalk, starting off a half 
a dozen on a quick little run across the broad 
street. 

Hand in hand they toddled on, till in one 
of the quiet side avenues they came to the 
number on the card the gentleman had given 
as a direction. 



165 


166 


LITTLE JOY. 


“67, Chestnut avenue; this must he the 
house, Joey.” Joy pushed open the gate and 
led her blind companion up the smooth gravel 
walk to a large stone cottage standing some- 
what back from the street amid a pretty lit- 
tle lawn and shrubberies. 

A ring at the bell quickly brought a pleas- 
ant-faced Irish girl to the door. 

“ Please, does Mr. Gordon live here ?” 

“ Yes, but he’s not back from church yet. 
I suppose you are the two children he expects 
to dinner ?” 

“ Yes, ma’am ; he told us to come early,” 
said Joy, in a tone of apology. 

“ Oh, it’s all right ; the master thought you 
might be here before he returned, and left 
word you were to amuse yourselves in the 
library. He’ll be here soon, now.” 

She opened the door wide for them to enter, 
and then helped them off with their outer 
garments, which she hung on the hall-rack. 
It was a square hall, furnished with two or 
three old-fashioned oak chairs and some fine 
engravings ; no stairs were in sight, but op- 
posite the front door two glass ones stood 
wide open, leading into a small conservatory. 
Beyond was a mass of green and colour which 


THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 167 

perfumed tlie whole house with aromatic 
sweetness. 

Joy gazed with wide-open eyes at the gor- 
geous array of strange tropical plants as the 
woman led them through the conservatory to 
an inner apartment fitted up in the modern 
library style, with low bookcases, heavy centre 
writing-table, and richly-carved black walnut 
furniture. 

Pictures, busts, and a pleasant wood-fire 
blazing cheerily away on shining brass and- 
irons gave a bright, homelike look to the 
room, and indicated a refined, educated taste 
in the possessor. 

The woman brought forward some books of 
engravings, and placing two low chairs in front 
of the fire, bade the children warm and amuse 
themselves till the master came in. 

As soon as they were left alone, Joy began 
to describe everything to the little blind boy, 
her single pair of eyes doing service for both. 

An open piano at one corner of the room 
puzzled her somewhat as to its possible use, 
but on hearing her description her companion 
started up with a look of great pleasure, and 
insisted upon being led to touch the white 
keys. 


168 


LITTLE JOY. 


“ Mamma had one,” he said, running his 
hands lightly over the board, and awakening 
sounds that surprised and delighted Joy. 
“ She used to give lessons, and played beau- 
tifully — oh, beautifully ! She taught me two 
or three tunes, but it’s so long since the piano 
was sold I'm afraid I have forgotten them.” 

“ Do try,” urged Joy. 

And after two or three attempts Joey man- 
aged to play the “Bluebells of Scotland ” and 
“Hail Columbia” in a style that awakened 
the little girl's wondering admiration. 

“ It’s perfectly lovely ! I wonder if the gen- 
tleman plays on it, or if his wife did ?” 

“ I mean to ask him,” said the blind boy. 
“ Perhaps he can play some of mamma's tunes. 
I should love to hear them dearly.” 

“ I guess that's a picture of his wife over 
the mantel-piece,” said Joy as they went back 
to their seats. “She’s a lovely lady, with 
long curly hair about her face, and such laugh- 
ing eyes that seem to follow you all around 
the room. And she has got the darlingest 
little baby-boy you ever saw on her lap.” 

“ I wish I could see her,” said Joey, with a 
little sigh. “ It's almost like fairy-land here, 
is it not, Joy ?” 


THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 169 

u It’s like the Delectable Mountains/’ re- 
plied Joy, gravely. “Don’t you remember 
how beautiful they were ?” 

The blind boy had never heard of Pilgrim’s 
journey, however, and listened eagerly to Joy’s 
account of his dangers and adventures. From 
this the talk branched off in many a side ave- 
nue, and the time slipped by unperceived by 
either, until, in answer to a remark of the lit- 
tle girl, she was startled considerably by the 
deep, rich tones of another voice than Joey’s : 

“Not alone, little one! Jesus never leaves 
us alone, unless our choice is not to have his 
company.” 

Joy turned quickly, with a little flush of joy : 
“ Oh, please, sir, where did you come from ?” , 

The gentleman laughed a little, and pres- 
ently held out his hand to the blind boy : ' 

“So this is Joey, is it? I’m glad to see 
you, my little man.” 

Joy leaned against his knee, and looked up 
with pleased eyes into the kind, grave face : ; 

“Please, sir, did we come too early? We 
always have dinner at twelve o’clock at the 
poorhouse.” 

“Not too early, my little girl. I should 
have been here sooner if I had not been de- 


ls 


170 


LITTLE JOY. 


tained by a sick man. How did it happen 
you and Joey were not at church ?” 

“We thought they only had church on 
Sundays,” replied the child, in a surprised 
tone. 

“ There is always church on Thanksgiving- 
day, to give thanks for all the kindness the 
heavenly Father has shown us during the 
past year.” 

“ Oh, Joy and I have been doing that at 
home,” said the blind boy, lifting his sightless 
eyes with a bright smile. 

“ And how many things have you found to 
give thanks for, my little man ?” 

“ Four,” answered the child, readily, “ and 
Joy has counted five.” 

“Let me hear what they are,” said Mr. 
Gordon, sitting down and putting an arm 
around each. 

“ First, Jesus is my Saviour,” said the blind 
boy, putting down one finger on the gentle- 
man’s knee. “ Second,” putting down another, 
“ he’s getting ready a place for me near mam- 
ma’s in the happy land. Third, I’m thankful 
Joy has come to live at the poorhouse ; and 
fourth, ’cause. you asked me to dinner.” 

“And now, little Joy, let us hear your 


THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 171 

special mercies and her friend put his hand 
upon her head gently. 

“ Joey is going to be my brother, — that’s one. 
You asked us both to dinner, — two. Darry’s 
not down in the ground, but up in the Zion- 
land, — three. I’ve got a whole Bible and a 
Pilgrim’s Progress, all my own, — four. And 
Jesus is bringing the kingdom into my heart 
and getting a place ready for me in the king- 
dom, — five. That’s all;” and the child looked 
thoughtfully from the five bent fingers of the 
right hand to her questioner’s face. 

“ A whole handful of mercies, little one 
and a grave smile, full of kindliness and ten- 
der sympathy, lightened the sober countenance 
as he spoke. “ Has the little heart-kingdom 
grown any brighter since yesterday morning, 
my child ?” 

“ Jesus has been saying, 1 I’m sorry for you, 
poor little Joy ; open the door wide, and I’ll 
stay with you all the time till the angel 
comes,’” replied the child, soberly. “That 
’most takes the 'ache away.” 

“ Ah, little one, only lonely, bleeding hea.rts 
shut up to Jesus can know the healing power 
of that presence as an abiding Comforter. 
When all goes well with us we are apt to for- 


172 


LITTLE JOY. 


get Jesus. There's balm in Gilead if only we 
did but seek it more trustfully. 

“ Has Joey learned Joy’s prayer yet ?” 

The blind boy hesitated as if in doubt ; the 
grave eyes watched him curiously, but their 
owner did not speak, neither did the child at 
once. 

“ You see, sir, I always thought the king- 
dom meant up in the skies with mamma. I 
never asked the Lord Jesus to come down and 
make a little kingdom in me, as Joy does,” he 
replied, slowly, after a few moments’ troubled 
consideration. 

“ Do you know now, my boy, that the great 
kingdom of glory is the gathering together of 
numberless little spirit-kingdoms, and that 
when we pray 1 thy kingdom come ’ it is first 
of all Jesus’s presence in our hearts we ask 
for?” 

Joey nodded soberly. 

“ Would you not like Jesus to come and live 
with you, Joey, making your body a little 
temple of the Holy Spirit ?” 

The child smiled brightly : 

“ Please, sir, I think he has come ; only I 
did not know that was what the kingdom 
meant.” 


THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 173 

“ Then will you and Joy try to bring the 
kingdom to other hearts ?” 

“ Please, sir, how can we ?” 

And Joy lifted her eyes with a questioning 
glance. 

“ By living such lovely, holy lives that 
those who see you will glorify your Father 
which is in heaven ; by acting the part of lit- 
^ tie torch-bearers in this sin-darkened world, 
telling others all around what a dear Saviour 
you have found in Jesus ; above all, by pray- 
ing earnestly that Christ’s kingdom may be 
advanced all over the world. Will you do 
this, little ones ?” 

“ I’ll try, sir,” said the blind boy, earnestly, 
and although Joy’s tongue said nothing, her 
eyes did, and their friend looked satisfied. 

“ Please, sir, dinner is ready,” said the 
pleasant-faced girl, making her appearance in 
the doorway. 

Taking a hand of each, the kind host led 
his little guests across the conservatory to a 
light, cheery dining-room, where a table was 
spread for three. The display of white table- 
linen, glass, silver, and flowers, though per- 
fectly simple and quiet, seemed wonderful to 
Joy’s unaccustomed eyes. The blind boy 


174 


LITTLE JOY. 


could only smell the flowers and hear the 
cool trickling of the ice in the goblets, but 
the nicely prepared fowls and vegetables were 
a great treat to both after the plain, homely 
fare of the poorhouse. Mr. Gordon ate spar- 
ingly himself, but took good care that his lit- 
tle companions did full justice to the dinner 
and had a plentiful supply of the pudding and 
fruit dessert. If to see the vacant places at 
his table thus supplied made his own heart 
ache, his brow was kept unclouded, and 
though there might be a sober tinge to both 
words and smiles, neither was wanting to 
shed a tender cheerfulness all through the 
meal. No personal feeling was allowed to 
cloud the children’s Thanksgiving treat, and 
so skilfully and pleasantly did he draw them 
out that very soon they were chatting as 
freely as if they had known him all their 
lives. 

By the time dinner was over and they again 
gathered around the library fire, a faint flush 
of pleasure had driven away the shadow from 
Joy’s brow, while the blind boy’s sweet coun- 
tenance sparkled with rosy satisfaction. 

“ Now, little ones, what shall I do to amuse 
you?” asked the kind host, with a cheerful 


THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 175 

smile. “ Shall I show you my pictures or 
teach you a game of parlour ninepins ?” 

“Please, sir, tell us a story,” suggested 
Joey, raising his sightless eyes with an en- 
treating look. “ I could not see the pictures 
or roll the balls straight.” 

“ What shall the story be about, my little 
man ?” asked the gentleman, with a compas- 
sionate expression on his fine face. 

The boy considered a moment. 

“ Please, sir, do you know any story about 
heaven ?” 

Mr. Gordon hesitated ; a look of great pain, 
suddenly stirred, swept across his face as he 
raised his eyes and fixed them mournfully on 
the lovely face smiling down from above the 
marble mantel. Then, with a smothered sigh, 
he turned back to the waiting children : 

“Shall I tell you about a little German 
boy’s dream and the lesson it taught him ?” 

Both of the eager children begged him to 
do so ; accordingly, he began and told the fol- 
lowing story. 

“HANS’S VISIT TO HEAVEN. 

“ German Hans was a little hunchback whose 
parents had died on the vessel which brought 


176 


LITTLE JOY. 


them from Germany, leaving their orphan son 
to make his own way in a foreign land far 
away from his native home and relatives. He 
was a bright, active boy of a dozen years or so, 
and soon acquired the language sufficiently to 
enable him to peddle pins, needles, thread, hair 
pins, and other such simple articles through^, 
the streets of New York city. These articles 
and the basket in which they were held he 
obtained from a small fancy-shop on commis- 
sion, — that is, he was allowed to take them out 
during the day, sell what he could for a few 
cents more than the shop-people charged, and 
then, at night, return the basket and the price 
of what he had sold. By this means he usu- 
ally earned enough pennies during the day to 
pay for two or three scanty meals and a night's 
lodging on the floor of an Irish woman’s attic. 
As he was all alone in the world and his de- 
formity often made him the sport of cruel men 
and boys, he frequently became sad and dis- 
couraged, especially when, after walking up 
and down all day long, rain or shine, he made 
so little that even the necessary penny extra 
which he paid for his floor-bed was missing. 
At such times he was forced to seek shelter 
wherever it could be found without price: 


THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 177 

sometimes under the front steps of a basement 
entrance; sometimes in an empty dry-goods 
box left in front of a store : just the snuggest 
corner that turned up about bed-time. 

“ The poor orphan foreigner knew little about 
Jesus and the happy land until one Sunday 
afternoon, as he wandered disconsolately down 
the street, the sound of singing caught his 
ear. Like most of his countrymen, Hans 
was extravagantly fond of music, so he joined 
himself to the crowd fast gathering around a 
little group of young men standing on a cor- 
ner just where the tide of passers-by was 
strongest. 

“ ^hen the hymn was finished, one of the 
gentlemen raised himself on the edge of the 
nearest lamp-post, and holding fast with one 
arm, began talking to the motley audience in 
clear, ringing tones which reached even the 
outer edge of the group where Hans stood. 
His theme was the Father’s house, its joy and 
peace and glory, the love of the dear Elder 
Brother, the Prince of that land of beauty, 
and the service he asks of each of his servants 
while waiting for the summons home. The 
speaker was a noted and popular street- 
preacher, and his words came home with great 


178 


LITTLE JOY. 


power to more than one heart that day. Hans 
never forgot that sermon, nor the hymn and 
short prayer which followed. He bought a 
Bible in German, going supperless to bed for 
several weeks to save the money ; and he read 
and pondered so much about that bright, tear- 
less home during the day-time that at length 
visions of its beauty began to be mingled in 
his night-fancies. It was so comforting, after 
a weary, discouraging day, to rest on the 
thought of a place where even for the poor 
stranger there was a Friend and a welcome, a 
home where cold and hunger and sorrow never 
came, full of white robes, starlit crowns, and 
never-ceasing music. 

“It was Christmas eve. The brilliantly- 
lighted streets were thronged with warmly- 
clad people, and the gay shop-windows were 
filled with holiday goods to tempt those who 
had full purses and plenty of friends. The 
scene was a bright, joyous one, full of pleasant 
bustle and happy greetings. But poor Hans 
was neither merry nor light-footed. It had 
been a bad day for him. Up and down, up 
and down, he had gone through the weary 
hours, offering his best wares to every passer- 
by. Nobody had pennies to spare for the 


THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 179 

homely articles in the hunchback’s basket ; 
they were all wanted for Christmas toys and 
gifts, and so the little thread-and-needle mer- 
chant had barely cleared enough to buy a 
piece of stale bread and a herring for his din- 
ner. He must go supperless and seek a shel- 
ter that cost nothing. 

“ Up and down, up and down, he went with 
the despised wares, thinking over the happy 
Christmas eves in his far-away German home, 
until his heart grew so heavy and the tired 
feet so weary that he could stand it no longer. 
He gave up in despair and carried the basket 
back to the shop, and then began to search for 
a sleeping-place. 

. “ As he strolled up the crowded street he 
would once in a while stand arrested before 
the marvellous display of some plate-glass 
window, or eyed wistfully the tempting-look- 
ing turkeys and immense joints of meat in 
the gayly-illuminated butcher-shops, all decked 
out with ribbons and Christmas greens. It 
was too cold for the doorstep, and no empty 
box could he find; for nearly an hour he 
hunted for a suitable place in vain. 

11 Up and down, and up again, the tired feet 
kept on, until at length they found themselves 


180 


LITTLE JOY. 


in a broad, quiet avenue lined with rows of 
pleasant brownstone dwellings. Many of the 
wooden shutters were still unclosed for the 
night. Looking in from the damp and dark- 
ness without, the weary lad caught many a 
tempting glimpse of warmth and holiday 
cheer, handsome furniture, soft carpets, mir- 
rors, pictures, flowers, and books; above all, 
happy, loving faces. 

“ Once, especially, the chilled, homesick child 
gazed long and wistfully. The bright, firelit 
room within was hung with long wreaths of 
evergreens, and in the centre stood a tall 
spruce tree blazing with wax tapers and 
crystal balls, and loaded with choice Christ- 
mas gifts. A merry home-group — grandpa- 
rents, father and mother, uncles, aunts, and a 
flock of bright-faced children — had gathered 
around ; and then came faintly out the sweet 
notes of a piano, as one of the aunts played 
the accompaniment to a lively Christmas 
carol and the voices of young and old joined 
in. How like a fairy scene it seemed to lone- 
ly Hans ! contrasting so sadly with the gloom 
and solitude of the cold street without. 

“ Reluctantly he turned away. A light in 
an alley just back attracted his attention. It 


THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 181 

was a coachman standing, lantern in hand, at 
the open door of his stable, where he had been 
making his horses comfortable for the night. 
The broad, good-natured face was so encour- 
aging that Hans drew near and begged that 
he might be allowed to pass the night under 
the same roof with the horses. 

“ The man hesitated a little ; something in 
the pale, sad face appealed strongly to his 
heart, which was not a hard one : 

“ ‘ Well, I suppose it will not do to say No, 
seeing as how it’s Christmas eve. But you’ll 
have to stay locked in till I have finished my 
breakfast to-morrow morning.’ 

“ Hans eagerly assented to this, and quickly 
mounted the ladder the man pointed out, lead- 
ing up to the loft above. The next moment 
the door was locked and Hans and the horses 
were left alone in the dark. 

11 A round glass window above the entrance 
let in, however, a faint glimmer of light, re- 
vealing the loft to be low and full of hay. Oc- 
casionally through the broken panes a little 
evening breeze came in on an exploring expe- 
dition, stirring the hay lightly, so as to draw 
out a sweet scent that quite filled the room. 
Hans hollowed out a nest in the hay near the 
16 


182 


LITTLE JOY. 


window, and with a long sigh of mingled sat- 
isfaction and weariness drew some more hay- 
over him for a blanket. 

“ ‘ What a jolly place this is !’ he soliloquiz- 
ed. 1 A sight nicer than Granny O’Briens 
dirty floor. I wish that man would let me 
sleep here every night.’ 

"Now, as he lay there gazing out at the starry 
sky, this is what happened to him, — Hans in- 
sists before his eyes were closed, but I think 
he made a mistake there, don’t you ?” 

“ Please, sir, what did happen ?” asked Joey, 
earnestly. 

The gentleman looked down at the two 
eager, upturned faces with a little smile. 

“ Hans says the two brightest stars sudden- 
ly came nearer and nearer, until they proved 
to be the soft, pitying eyes of a beautiful 
angel dressed in a long fleecy cloud robe, with 
two large cloud-wings, which kept up an in- 
cessant flapping as she bent lovingly over him : 
then a sweet, silvery voice said in his very ear, 

“ ‘Little Hans, will you go with me to spend 
Christmas day with the angel children in the 
great Father’s house above ?’ 

“ Hans stretched out his hands eagerly ; the 
next instant he found himself rising from the 


THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 183 

day and gently wafted up and up until the 
great city slumbering below grew shadowy 
and indistinct — even the tall domes and spires 
were left far behind — yet such was his confi- 
dence in the gentle guardian’s care that, rest- 
ing securely in those loving arms, he looked 
down from the giddy height without a sensa- 
tion of fear. Up, up they continued to rise 
until a sound of sweet music came floating 
down, at first faint and distant, but all the 
time growing louder and nearer. Soon the 
twinkling stars were seen to be an immense 
company of white-rohed, bright-eyed angels 
singing Christmas carols of ‘ Glory to God in 
the highest, on earth peace, good-will to men.’ 
The ranks parted to let them pass through, 
and the next moment the angel stopped before 
an open pearly gate, beyond which lay a long, 
golden-paved street flooded with a soft, won- 
derful radiance. On either side the gate stood 
a shining warden guarding the entrance. 

“‘Oh how beautiful!’ and Hans looked 
wistfully up into the lovely face of his guide. 

“ But the angel only smiled back, and giving 
the watchword, ‘ The Lamb who was slain and 
hath redeemed us with his blood,’ essayed to 
enter. 


184 


LITTLE JOY. 


“ But the gate-guardians shook their heads, 
saying gently, but firmly, 1 Only the death 
messenger can bring in a mortal here without 
special permit/ ‘ It is the Princes command/ 
was the quick reply. Instantly they bowed 
reverently and made way, and the angel bore 
Hans through to the other side. 

“ In either direction from the golden-paved 
avenue stretched swelling fields of green, 
watered by the several branches of a river 
clear as crystal, apparently starting from the 
same central point whence the glorious efful- 
gence which took the place of sun and moon 
had its focus. Along the tree-shaded banks 
multitudes of white-robed beings were passing 
to and fro, and surging across from that same 
central point came the sound of music, the 
voice of harpers harping constantly, of silver 
trumpets and stringed instruments ; now the 
sweet, clear note of a single throat, silvery 
and pure ; anon the swelling chorus of the 
great multitude, as of many waters and of 
mighty thunderings, saying : ‘ Alleluia, for 
the Lord God omnipotent reigneth/ 

“ The angel bore Hans down towards a 
lovely river-side garden where a number of 
merry children were playing together. The 


THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 185 

little hunchback shrunk from leaving the 
angels arms lest his uncouth figure should ex- 
pose him to ridicule, but as if the angel guess- 
ed the unspoken thought, she hade him look 
at his reflection in the clear water as they 
passed. The face was his, hut the pure white 
garments and erect figure which had replaced 
the every-day worn suit and deformed person 
seemed to belong to somebody else. But to 
his great delight, when he put up his hand to 
feel, the hunch was really gone. 

“The angel beckoned one of the nearest 
children, who instantly obeyed the summons 
without an impatient word or frowns 

“ ‘ Angelchen/ said the sweet, silvery voice, 
' the Prince permits you the pleasure of help- 
ing this little earth-boy enjoy his Christmas 
in heaven. On earth he is a little hunchback 
without friends or home, so you must do your 
best to make him happy while he stays/ 

“ Then the angel-boy took Hans kindly by 
the hand and led him back to his companions, 
who all came running to welcome him to their 
charming playground. The hours that followed 
were as a joyous dream to the stranger-guest. 
He played merrily with the children ; he 
gathered fruit and flowers as freely as he 


186 


LITTLE JOY. 


pleased ; lie joined in the beautiful songs they 
sung, or wandered around with the angel-boy 
under whose special care he had been placed, 
viewing so many wondrous and lovely scenes 
that he almost grew dizzy with pleasure. 

“ 1 Are we not 'most through ?’ he asked, at 
length, as the two threw themselves down on 
the bank to enjoy the distant music and chat. 

“ ‘ Oh no ! You cannot begin to see even a 
tiny corner in a single day,’ replied the other, 
with a joyous, silvery little laugh. ‘ I myself 
have only just begun to find out what a beau- 
tiful place it is, and I have been here more 
than fifty years, as we counted time on earth. 
Yet I am only one of the little ones, but those 
who have been here the longest say the same 
thing.’ 

“ ‘ Is it so very, very large ?’ said Hans, in 
great amazement. 

“ ‘ Oh, very, and so full of joy and beauty 
- that one never tires. Even the birds sing 
sweeter and the flowers are far more lovely 
than on earth, and then they never fade.’ 

“ 1 Are you never cold nor hungry nor 
sad?’ 

Never, oh never. Those who dwell in 
the Father’s house hunger no more, neither 


THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 187 

thirst any more, neither shall the.sun light on 
them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is 
in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and 
shall lead them unto living fountains of water, 
and God shall wipe all tears from their eyes.’ 

“ ‘ And how do your clothes keep so white 
and shiny? Do they never get soiled and 
torn ?’ 

“ 1 Our robes are washed and made white in 
the blood of the Lamb, and nothing in any 
wise enters in here that defile th.’ 

“ 1 And do you never go to church? What 
do you do all day long, and where do you 
sleep when night comes V 

“ 1 There is no need of a church, for the 
Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the 
temple here. He that sits on the throne 
dwells among us ; thus we serve him all the 
time in his temple. Everything we do or en- 
joy is a sort of service, because in all he is 
first in our thoughts and affections. Daily we 
see his face; his name is in our foreheads. 
And there is no night here ; we need no candle, 
neither light of the sun ; for the glory of God 
giveth continual brightness, and the Lamb is 
the light of the whole city.’ 

“ ‘ Do you have any work to do ?’ asked 


188 


LITTLE JOY. 


Hans, in some doubt, as be eyed the childish 
face and form. 

“ ' Yes ; even the youngest has a special ser- 
vice appointed him. Would you like to see 
how I am permitted to serve the king V 

“ Hans assented, and the angel-child led the 
way outside the city gates, which always stood 
open ; pointing down, he bade his companion 
stoop and look. 

“ Instantly the distance seemed annihilated. 
Far beneath lay a large oriental garden where 
the thirsty flowers drooped their heads under 
the heat of* a tropical sun. 1 That is a wee 
bit of earth in Africa which has been put 
under my care. Every morning and evening 
I sprinkle the plants with dew, and see that 
all the birds and fishes and animals have their 
daily food. Hot the tiniest birdling falls to 
the ground without the heavenly Father s 
notice. And sometimes I am sent down to 
minister to some of his dear earth-children/ 

“ Hans drew a long breath as they again 
passed in through the gates. A moment after 
his heart began to beat quickly, for there drew 
near the place where they were standing a 
figure so bright and glorious that his eyes 
were dazzled by the vision even before the 


THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 189 

lovely, majestic face was near enough to be 
seen. 

“'It is the King’s Son, our dear Elder 
Brother P cried the angel-child, running joy- 
fully to pay him homage. 

“ But in spite of his pure white robe and 
erect form, Hans felt so simple and unworthy 
that he hung back, not daring to approach till 
the Prince tenderly spoke his name : 

“ ' Hans, my little Hans ! It is I, be not 
afraid.’ 

“ Then Hans ran quickly, and kneeling down, 
pressed his- lips in childish abandon and rev- 
erent affection where the nail prints had left a 
scar on those dear white feet. 

“But stooping down, the Saviour Prince 
raised him in his arms, and wiping away the 
tears of mingled joy and grief, said softly, 

“ ' Little Hans, will you come and live with 
me by and by in the Father’s house ?’ 

“ ' Oh yes, dear Master, if I may,’ said 
Hans, gratefully. ' But such a weak, sinful 
child as I is not fit to live here.’ 

“ ‘/Sou shall be washed pure in my blood, 
little Hans. My name shall be written on 
your forehead ; for my sake the Father will 
make you welcome. But first you must go 


190 


LITTLE JOY. 


back for a time to the cold and hardships and 
loneliness of the old earth-life. Are you will- 
ing to do this for my sake, little Hans ?’ 

“ 1 Yes, to please thee, dear Prince,' mur- 
mured Hans, softly. 

“ 1 It need not be lonely any longer, little 
Hans,’ said those same low, tender tones of 
love and sympathy. ‘ The very hairs of your 
head are all numbered ; not one unnecessary 
sorrow or trial shall touch you, and before 
very long the place will be made ready for 
you, and my strong, good angel Death shall 
be sent to bring you home again. Till then 
fear not, little Hans ; lo, I am with you always 
even to the end.’ 

“ * Dear Master,’ pleaded Hans, earnestly, 
1 give me some work to do for thee while wait- 
ing, that the time may not seem so long.’ 

“ The Master smiled lovingly down on the 
little child in his arms : 

“ 1 Your first work, little Hans, must be to 
guard your heart as a sacred shrine from all 
that is wrong and impure. Open the door 
wide that I, its King, may enter in. Hence- 
forth your life is hid with me. Then as you 
go about the great city below, so dark with 
sin and sorrow, act the part of a torch-bearer ; 


THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 191 

tell all your voice can reach of this beautiful 
Father’s house and how I love them; especial- 
ly help the dear children to come to me.’ 

“ The Master’s voice died away, and Hans 
suddenly awoke to find the morning sun 
streaming brightly through the loft window. 
Ye't as he lay wonderingly amid the sweet- 
scented hay, those soft, tender tones still rang 
in his heart, * Lo, I am with you always, even 
unto the end.’ ” 

The gentleman ceased speaking ; for a while 
the flames flickering brightly in the fireplace 
and the softly-dropping ashes had it all their 
own way. Then Mr. Gordon spoke. 

“ Little Joy,” he asked, with an affectionate 
pressure of the arm which encircled her, “ can 
you say you are 1 all alone ’ when Jesus is with 
you ?” 

The child’s eyes glistened as she looked up 
and shook her head. 

“ Please, sir,” asked the blind boy, “did 
Hans tell people about Jesus and the Father’s 
house after that ?” 

“ I believe he did, my boy. At least he 
told the person who told me.” 

A grave, tender look came over the gentle- 
man’s face as he looked sadly at the sweet one 


192 


LITTLE JOY. 


smiling down upon the little group from over 
the mantel. 

“Was it that lady who told you, sir ?” ask- 
ed Joy, timidly. 

“ Yes, my little girl, it was she. Crossing 
on one of the ferry boats which run between 
Jersey City and New York, she noticed a lit- 
tle hunchback boy with his basket whose face 
interested her so much that she sat down be- 
side him and entered into conversation. Some 
sympathizing remarks led him to reply, with a 
bright smile, 1 Never mind, lady ; some day I 
shall have wings and fly away to the Father’s 
house.’ He told her his dream after that, and 
when she returned home, she wrote it' out for 
the benefit of some of her little nieces and 
nephews.” 

“ Did Hans really believe he went to heaven 
and saw all these things ?” asked the blind boy, 
thoughtfully. 

The gentleman smiled gravely : 

“ He told my wife it all seemed just as real 
as if he had been, and, at any rate, it was the 
Saviour Prince who had sent the dream, if not 
the angel.” 

“ Do you think the Father’s house is just 
like it was in the dream, sir ?” 


THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 193 

“ I don’t know exactly what it is like, my 
dear little boy ; I only am sure of one thing, — 
that when we get there we shall see Jesus and 
be perfectly satisfied. All the joy and beauty 
of earth is worthless in comparison.” 

Joy gave a soft little sigh. 

“ My little child,” said Mr. Gordon, lifting 
her face so that he could look right in her 
wistful eyes, “ you and I must be content to 
wait patiently till it is the Masters good 
pleasure to call us home too. But if we want 
the time to pass quickly and happily, we must 
find some work to do for Jesus while we are 
waiting.” 

Joy’s lip quivered, but she asked, earnestly, 
“ What am I to do, sir ?” 

*“ They also serve who only stand and wait,' 
little one. Wait on the Lord for your work, 
as for everything else. Ask, and it shall be 
given ; seek, and you will find something.” 

And then for some time the talk went on— 
of that land again where sorrow and death is 
unknown ; of the friends awaiting them there ; 
of the vast company of earth-pilgrims jour- 
neying toward it ; of the glory of the King 
and the joy of his service even here ; of the 
abiding peace which his presence alone can 
17 N 


194 


LITTLE JOY. 


bring ; — till thought grew too full for words, 
and silence again stole over the little group. 

Thus the short November afternoon drew 
near its close, and twilight came on. But before 
the children left, the blind boy asked their 
kind host to play on the piano for them. 
After playing and singing several other things 
he ended with the beautiful English version of 
Bernard de Cheny’s grand Latin hymn on 
heaven : 

“ Brief life is here our portion, 

Brief sorrow, short-lived care : 

The life that knows no ending, 

The tearless life, is there. 

O happy retribution, 

Short toil, eternal rest ! 

For mortals and for sinners, 

A mansion with the blest! 


“ O one, O only mansion ! 

O paradise of joy ! 

Where tears are ever banished 
And smiles have no alloy : 
There all the halls of Zion 
For aye shall be complete, 
And in the land of beauty 
All things of beauty meet. 

“ For thee,0 dear, dear country ! 
Mine eyes their vigils keep : 


THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 


For very joy, beholding 

Thy happy name, they weep; 
The mention of thy glory 
Is unction to the breast, 

And medicine in sickness, 

And love and life and rest. 


“Beside thy living waters 

All plants are great and small — 

The cedar of the forest, 

The hyssop of the wall ; 

With jaspers glow thy bulwarks, 
Thy streets with emeralds blaze ; 

The sardius and the topaz 
Unite in thee their rays. 

“Thy ageless walls are bounded 
With amethyst unpriced ; 

Thy saints build up its fabric, 

The corner-stone is Christ; 

Thou hast no shore, fair ocean ! 
Thou hast no time, bright day ! 

Dear fountain of refreshment 
To pilgrims far away. 

“ They stand, those walls of Zion, 
Conjubilant with song, 

And bright with many an angel 
And many a martyr throng ; 

The Prince is ever with them, 

The light is aye serene ; 

The pastures of the blessed 
Are decked in glorious sheen. 


196 


LITTLE JOY. 


“Jerusalem the golden ! 

Glory of the elect, 

O dear and future vision 
That eager hearts expect ! 

O land that seest no sorrow ! 

O state that fearest no strife ! 

O princely bowers ! O land of flowers ! 

O realm and home of life !” 

Then, after he had knelt and prayed with 
them, the two younger pilgrims went back for 
a time to serve the Prince in their humble 
home. 


THE END. 












. 

. 













































x 

































































♦ 






























































# 

















- « 


• - 



4 

































4 



































